


dolor

by frostbloom



Series: ubi mores, ibi spes [1]
Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, F/F, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hunger Games, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Romance, Suffering, just lots of pain in general okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2018-11-07 23:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11069703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostbloom/pseuds/frostbloom
Summary: The Hunger Games are no place for love. Kang Daniel knows this. Fate has other ideas.dolor outtakes are here900 kudos! thank you for reading~





	1. dream

**Author's Note:**

> _dolor_ \- noun; m. (genitive dolōris), third declension  
>  1\. pain, ache, hurt  
> 2\. anguish, grief, sorrow  
> 3\. indignation, resentment, anger  
>   
>  **[fic playlist here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLYbW26M8OAfGbpEVR4TjZyIKxY5M0NPwd) **  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the beginning of it all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream: a series of thoughts, images, or emotions occurring during sleep

Sleep is always the worst for Kang Daniel.

For the past few nights he’s dreamed so vividly of many different worlds, so many different stories, but always of the same boy and always with a sense of déjà vu. Two nights ago his hand slipped from the other boy’s in a flash of green light, a smooth voice calling his name desperately as the world went dark. Last night Daniel watched the handsome face burn away in a flash of divine lightning, his own horrified screams hanging on the tip of his tongue—no known name to call out.

Tonight he’s sitting in a broken-down house, clutching a familiar stranger, blinking back the tears that blur his view of the gruesome bite mark on his own arm. His head hurts. The other boy is crying, tears wetting his shoulder. “Don’t cry, it’s going to be okay,” Daniel mumbles, voice hoarse, ears ringing. “Don’t cry, S-”

When Daniel wakes up in a cold sweat, he has a brief moment of total confusion. _Where am I,_ he wonders foggily, sitting up in his bed. His mind feels like it’s gone completely blank. _What just happened? Where is this—_

“Daniel, get up!” Jisung’s voice snaps him out of his trance. Someone knocks on the door. “Get up! It’s—”

“Reaping Day,” calls Daniel through the closed door, suddenly completely alert. He swings himself out of bed and gets dressed as quickly as he can, noting the other two empty beds in his room and the sunlight filtering in through the blinds. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get a watch,” says Jinwoo from just outside the door. He must have been the one knocking. Daniel snorts, brushing past him and heading out to the kitchen, where Jisung is slicing a loaf of seaweed bread. He looks up when Daniel enters.

“Well, Sleeping Beauty” —Daniel snorts again— “we were wondering if you were ever going to wake up, you know.” Jisung hands him a still-warm, green-tinted slice. “Speaking of sleeping… what’s going on with you lately?”

Daniel’s eyes widen. “What do you mean?” he asks. Jisung raises an eyebrow.

“You really think Jinwoo and I haven’t noticed that something’s up? You’re making weird noises all the time. Last night you screamed in your sleep and obviously that woke us both up. Sometimes you even say things—”

“What have I been saying?”

Daniel blurts the question so fast that it leaves Jisung blinking at him owlishly, trying to comprehend his words. “What have I been saying, you ask,” he mutters under his breath. “Daniel, sometimes you sound like you’re begging for your life. ‘No, please don’t, help,’ stuff like that. And always something else, like a name, but you always seem to wake up before we can hear you say the whole name. Seong… Seong-something. You keep saying that.” He peers at Daniel closely as Jinwoo enters the kitchen, looking weirded out. “Stop looking at me like that. It’s probably not a big deal. I just think it’s weird. Eat,” he orders, turning back to the bread and cutting a piece for Jinwoo.

 _Seong…_ Daniel thinks. _That sounds so familiar. Like a past life. Like…_

“You asked what time it was, and now I’m finally telling you, and you’re staring off into space,” says Jinwoo in exasperation, jolting Daniel out of his reverie. “It’s nine o’clock, we’ve got half an hour at most. Your second-to-last Reaping starts at ten, remember?”

Daniel does remember, but he’d honestly prefer not to think about it.

* * *

They head out twenty minutes later, Jisung making exaggerated faces at Jinwoo as the latter suppresses a sigh, complaining about how Jisung took too long to find his coat. Daniel smiles fondly at them as they walk to the town square.

Jinwoo and Jisung are like family to him. Both are older than reaping age—Jisung is 22, and Jinwoo is 20, so neither can take tesserae anymore. Not like anyone really takes tesserae in District 4 anyways, with the abundance of food in the district, but Daniel makes sure to, feeling somewhat indebted to his friends for taking him in from the orphanage two years ago. He doesn’t want to be a burden to them. Besides, the training academy always selects volunteers, so he doesn’t have anything to worry about.

 _This year’s volunteers are interesting,_ he thinks. The girl is Im Nayoung, eighteen years old, the deadliest trainee in town, and one of the prettiest, too. (Not that he has any interest in her.) She doesn’t really speak to anyone and her expression is always blank— _careful and calculated,_ Daniel thinks as he separates from his friends and joins the registration line. The boy is younger than Daniel himself—

“Hello there, Daniel!” A voice rings out from behind him in line. Daniel whips around, scowl already forming. _Speak of the devil,_ he thinks sourly.

The male volunteer this year is Ha Minho. Fifteen years old, extremely dangerous with any type of blade, son of a Victor, and an insufferable brat who despises Daniel and his friends. Daniel instinctively looks around for Jisung and Jinwoo, but they’ve already gone to the adults’ section of the crowd; the action doesn’t go unnoticed by Minho, who snorts derisively. “Looking for your boyfriends?”

The line moves forward, and Daniel turns back around to move with it. He tries his best to ignore Minho, who by now is asking him loudly how he likes his low-wage job at the harbor, but he’s really getting close to punching him in the face, despite the other boy’s superior combat training.

“How are your parents doing?” Daniel clenches his fists when he feels Minho prod at him mockingly—once, twice, and he turns around, ready to—

“Fuck _off,_ Minho,” says a cool voice. Minho whirls around and immediately flushes, falling silent.

Daniel has never been more glad to see Im Nayoung. The tall girl stands behind them in line, arms crossed, looking completely unimpressed. Minho looks like he’s beginning to realize what an awful time he’ll have trying to kill her in a week. Shooting her a grateful look, Daniel walks forward to get registered by the Peacekeepers, then moves to the seventeen-year-old boys’ section.

There are 4 chairs on the Reaping stage. One of them is taken up by Hweseung, the cheerful escort for District 4, wearing a snow-white suit and beaming as though this is the happiest day of his life. Next to him is an empty seat belonging to the mayor; beyond that, the two District 4 mentors for this year’s Games sit, eyes sweeping the crowd.

Kahi is District 4’s most recent female victor. Daniel remembers something about her winning the 85th Hunger Games, but he can’t remember how. Her eyes are piercing, but her face is worn and she looks drained. Daniel figures she’s searching the crowd for Nayoung.

Last year’s victor was from District 4: Kim Jonghyun. Nineteen years old. Handsome, humble, haunted by his own victory. He won, bringing glory and gifts to District 4, but instead of celebrating, its people did their best not to remind him of his victory, both to save him from further torment and themselves from the horrors of recollection. His win was no ordinary Career victory, no display of eagerness to kill, and so the district understood enough to not treat it as such.

Jonghyun’s bandaged wrists are deeply unsettling, but the vacant look in his eyes is even more so. Daniel makes direct eye contact with him for a moment before hastily breaking it and looking in the opposite direction. Suddenly the air feels too warm, the sun too bright, and Daniel feels strangely smothered. He doesn’t want to think about last year’s Games. No one wants to think about last year’s Games.

_Why would you be nervous?_

_Breathe,_ he tells himself, squinting up at the camerapeople lining the city rooftops—anywhere but the victor’s empty eyes. _Breathe._ It doesn’t help. That same feeling of dread still hangs over him like a shroud.

* * *

The clock on the Justice Building strikes ten, and the mayor walks to the podium to read the history of Panem. Daniel takes the time to examine the rest of the stage more closely, having heard this exact monologue at least five times already.

On either side of the podium, there are two large glass balls, each filled with hundreds of paper slips. Names. The girls’ names are on the left, the boys’ names on the right. Daniel swallows hard. In that right-side bowl, among all those slips, there are twelve pieces of paper with “Kang Daniel” written on them: six from the tesserae he’s taken every year from the age of twelve, and another six for the years he’s lived between ages twelve and eighteen. _Twelve slips,_ he thinks distantly. _Twelve out of so many slips. And even then, there’s a volunteer. Why would you be nervous?_

The mayor is reading from a long list of victors now. When he finally reaches the end of the list with “Kim Jonghyun, Victor of the 100th Hunger Games, 4th Quarter Quell,” Daniel can actually see Jonghyun flinch.

 _Why would you be nervous?_ And then he knows exactly why he’s nervous. This year destruction seems to loom over the crowd, a boulder of doom poised to roll and crush them all. Destruction is the district’s realization that the victor never truly wins, that they die in that arena, just like all the other tributes. Destruction is the tremor in Jonghyun’s hands, the darkness in Kahi’s eyes, the weight beyond their years on both of their shoulders. Destruction is the pain in a younger Jonghyun’s eyes as he fights against himself, as he comes to a decision, as he withdraws his hand and lets the roiling water below swallow up his ally. Destruction is the bitter regret District 4 can almost taste as their only remaining tribute forces himself to accept what he has done, as he curls up alone in the branches of his tree and sobs for hours, as he thrashes in his sleeping bag every night of the Games afterwards and screams, “I’m so sorry, no, Min—”

Daniel squeezes his eyes shut. The tension in the air is too much for him. Maybe a swim after the Reaping will help. He hasn’t gone out in at least a week, and the little boy that lives in the orphanage by the shore, Lee Woojin, would love to see him, anyways.

He’s jolted from his anxious thoughts by Hweseung, who sounds a little more subdued than in previous years. “May the odds be ever in your favor,” he’s saying, as usual, but somehow the words feel stilted. Daniel’s heart hammers in his chest.

 _Breathe,_ he thinks desperately. _It’ll be over soon._

“We’ll start with the girls!” Hweseung gives the cameras his signature grin and steps to the left, reaching into the girls’ bowl. He plucks a slip from the glass ball and holds it up to the light. “Jung Eunwoo!”

“I volunteer as tribute!”

Nayoung’s voice rings out clear and strong from somewhere behind Daniel. The crowd parts before her, clearing a path to the stage. She’s striding forward now, eyes fixed on something ahead of her; Daniel follows her gaze and finds Jonghyun rubbing his hands together anxiously, watching her ascend the stage steps.

“And what’s your name?” asks Hweseung warmly.

_Don’t be nervous._

“Im Nayoung,” she says. “Eighteen years old.” Behind her, Jonghyun wears a pained expression.

_You shouldn’t be nervous._

“Wonderful!” Hweseung beams at her before turning to the crowd. “A round of applause for Nayoung!”

The district breaks out into the usual applause; Daniel claps along mechanically, resisting the urge to flee the area. Now Hweseung is approaching the boys’ bowl. “Time for the boys!” he grins.

Daniel feels sick with anticipation. Hweseung’s hand goes into the bowl. _Breathe. You don’t have anything to worry about._ His hand withdraws, pulling a slip out of the glass ball with it. _You don’t have anything to worry about. You don’t have anything to worry about. You don’t have anything—_

“Kang Daniel!”

* * *

 His mind goes blank. For a second, while his name echoes around the town square, panic rises within him, and he blinks rapidly, trying to tamp it down.

When he raises his head to look around, he sees that all attention is focused on one person—and it’s not him. _That’s right,_ he thinks, suddenly relieved, and looks back down. _The volunteer. Ha Minho. You don’t have anything to worry about._

But Minho stays silent.

The crowd begins to murmur. Daniel raises his head again, terror beginning to claw at his chest. Ha Minho is standing at the front of the crowd, just watching him. He hasn’t said anything yet. When their eyes meet, Minho merely smirks and motions for him to start walking.

 _There’s no way,_ Daniel thinks numbly, his own name ringing in his ears. He can’t move, feet seemingly rooted to the ground, waves of paralyzing fear washing over him.

Someone starts to sob. He knows it’s Jisung.

“Well, Kang Daniel?” calls Hweseung expectantly, the smallest quaver in his voice. All eyes are fixed upon Daniel now, some with confusion, others with pity. When he looks up at the stage, he notes the anger in Kahi’s eyes, the horror in Jonghyun’s as they realize what’s happening. Nayoung’s face is as blank as ever, but as Daniel slowly begins to move forward, the crowd parting before him, he can see that her fists are clenched.

He passes Minho. Doesn’t look at him, but can imagine the sick pleasure on his face and feels nauseous. Can’t breathe, but he’s alive somehow and walking to his death. Wonders if he’s dreaming or dying, or maybe both. Jisung’s wails are muffled.

He’s going to _die. Just like in my dreams—what about Jisung and Jinwoo I can’t just leave them behind like this—_

“How old are you, Daniel?” Hweseung asks, not unkindly.

_I’m going to die._

Daniel tries to keep the panic from showing on his face. He doesn’t know if he’s succeeding. All he knows is that he’s going to die. “Seventeen.” His voice comes out strong and clear, and he feels immense relief.

“Ah, wonderful, wonderful!” Hweseung smiles widely at the crowd. “What a brave one. A round of applause for Kang Daniel, please!”

 _I’m not brave,_ he thinks, willing his hands to stop shaking. _I just didn’t have a choice._

The applause is significantly less this time, and stops earlier. Many of his acquaintances stand still, silent, shocked. Now that he’s standing atop the stage, he can see Jisung and Jinwoo, clutching each other desperately, the latter looking up at him with silent tears running down his face. Jisung’s cries are still audible. Daniel feels his resolve start to weaken. He shouldn’t have looked.

The mayor is reading from the Treaty of Treason, but the words are blurring together and Daniel’s dreams are flashing before his eyes. _Death. I’m not brave. I’m going to die._ He can barely keep his composure. When he looks to his right, Nayoung is staring at him with concern—probably the biggest reaction she’s ever had towards him. Behind her, Jonghyun’s face is impassive. _Maybe the two of them have switched bodies,_ Daniel thinks, suddenly wanting to laugh. He doesn’t.

When the mayor finally finishes talking, Daniel and Nayoung turn to each other. He sticks out his hand, and she shakes it firmly. His hands have stopped shaking. They turn back towards the people of their District, and Daniel looks out over the crowd. How many of them know him as a friend? How many of them will come to say goodbye?

How many of them will cry when he dies?

* * *

The next five minutes pass in a blur. Somehow he ends up sitting hunched in a room of the Justice Building, fingers digging into the armrest of the fine leather couch.

First is Park Hayi, his boss at the harbor. She wastes no time. “Your last paycheck. I’ll give it to your family before the Games begin. After that, I can keep you on our payroll for another six payments.” Hayi looks at Daniel steadily, eyes shinier than he remembers. “We can also refuse to handle shipments ordered by Ha Minho’s family.”

“Aw, don’t do that,” Daniel says, weak smile threatening to appear on his face.

She scoffs, avoiding his eyes. “Sorry, but I’ve already decided to do that, and you won’t be changing my mind.”

“Thank you,” he whispers, touched, and they both fall silent.

“I’d better go,” she finally says, the pain in her voice palpable. “Daniel… good luck.”

“Please, Hayi—” he calls after her as she heads for the door. “Please, I don’t know how, but… take care of them. Jisung and Jinwoo. Please. I don’t want them to have to struggle anymore.”

“I promise I will,” Hayi says, without turning around.Then she does, and tears are visible in her eyes. “You’re a good person, Daniel,” he hears, so softly he might have imagined it. Then the door opens, closes, and she’s gone.

Suddenly the door flies open again and a small shape bursts in—Lee Woojin, the ten-year-old boy from the orphanage. “I have something for you,” he practically shouts, running to embrace Daniel.

Daniel finally manages a smile. “What is it?”

“This,” says a solemn Woojin, placing a wooden carving in his hand. Daniel examines it carefully. It’s a tiny cat, roughly hewn, seemingly curled up into a ball, sleeping.

“Your token!”

“Thank you, Woojinnie,” he whispers, placing it in his coat pocket. “Jisung and Jinwoo, you know them. They’ll take care of you. Don’t worry about me. I’ll—”

“Daniel, you don’t have to say that,” Woojin mutters. “I know what’s going on. I know what’s going to happen.” Daniel just stares at him, shocked by his maturity. “Just try, Daniel. Please come back. Don’t give up.”

“Promise?” adds Woojin, looking uncertain. His lip wobbles dangerously, and Daniel rushes to link his pinky finger with the child’s.

“Promise. Goodbye, Woojin.”

He watches the boy leave, so small in this huge, imposing building, so innocent and yet already too knowing of the world’s horrors. He has to do something before he goes, to help little Woojin before leaving him behind.

Finally Jisung comes in, eyes red and face despairing. He hurls himself at Daniel, crushing him backwards into the sofa. At least he’s not crying anymore. Daniel doesn’t know if he’d be able to stand that.

Jinwoo enters soon after, shoulders slumped, wiping tears from his face. “I told you not to take the tesserae,” he whimpers when Daniel reaches out to pat his shoulder. “I told you.”

Jisung doesn’t speak, doesn’t move. It’s like holding a corpse in his arms, Daniel thinks, except that he can feel Jisung’s breaths rattling in his chest.

For a few moments they’re all silent, as though mourning Daniel before he’s even left. Then he remembers everything he wants to say and the words fall from his lips endlessly, unable to be stopped.

“Thank you for taking me in from the orphanage years ago,” he murmurs. Jisung raises his head at that, opening his mouth to speak, but Daniel shakes his head, and he lets his head fall again. “You really saved me. I… I’m so lucky to be a part of your little family, and I don’t know if I would be alive now if it weren’t for you both.”

Jinwoo joins them on the couch, eyes empty and tired. Jisung has started to cry again, this time silently. Daniel wills his own tears back. “After I—after I’m gone, please. Please. Take Woojin from the orphanage. Please don’t let him take any tesserae. Hayi came in earlier and she promised to help you for a few months. You know how bad the orphanage is. Promise me that you’ll take Woojin. Please—”

“We will,” says Jinwoo, eyes filling with tears. “Daniel—”

He plows on. “Please, live happily. Forget about me. Please. You deserve that at least.”

Jisung raises his head again, out of tears to cry. “Oh, Daniel,” he whispers. “How could we ever forget you?”

It’s all Daniel can do to stop himself from breaking down. He clutches Jisung and Jinwoo and squeezes his eyes shut.

It’s not enough time, there’ll never be enough time with his family, because now the Peacekeepers are coming in, pulling Jinwoo away from him, prying Jisung from his hold. “Jisung, Jinwoo, I love you. I love you,” he shouts, desperate, as Jinwoo is shoved through the door, Jisung close behind.

“Love you too,” he hears them both call, before the door slams shut, the sound of their departure echoing through the room. Daniel exhales slowly. His arms feel empty; his body feels cold. His shoulder is wet with their tears.

 _You’re never going to see them again._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr here](https://luxsideris.tumblr.com)   
> 


	2. danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Train antics, and an introduction to most of the tributes.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> danger: exposure or liability to injury, pain, harm, or loss

It’s only a short ride to the train station from the Justice Building. Daniel sits in the car and watches the town square empty out. Children peer curiously through the window of the vehicle as it passes, and he smiles at them. Maybe if he hadn’t been reaped, he would have eventually settled down and raised a family of his own, he thinks, smile fading. _You don’t have a future anymore._

Before he knows it, there’s a Peacekeeper pulling the door open, ordering him to step out. The moment he emerges from the car, he’s hit by a bright flash of light. Then another, and another.

Cameras. They’re all around him, uncomfortably close; he tries his best not to let his fear and uncertainty show on his face, slipping one hand into his coat pocket to grip Woojin’s carving like a lifeline. He thinks back to Jinwoo and Jisung playing with a stray cat by the harbor, and even as his chest aches with want, he can feel the fear lifting a little.

Jonghyun and Kahi are already entering the train, nodding at the cameras surrounding them. Nayoung comes walking out from behind him, stride confident and practiced. Daniel sneaks a glance at her and sees her smirking at the cameras. _Damn._ He just hopes he doesn’t look scared.

They all stand in the doorway of the train for a few minutes, the flashes of light almost blinding, before they turn and go inside, the door sliding soundlessly shut behind them.

“Your rooms are in the next car,” says Kahi tonelessly, gesturing towards the back of the train. “You’ll only be here for a few hours.” She turns and opens a door leading in the other direction, not stopping once or looking back.

Jonghyun sighs, fiddling with the bandages on his wrists. “You two can go get ready. We’ll come get you for lunch in thirty minutes.” He smiles nervously at Daniel. “We’ll explain more of our approach to mentoring then.”

“We’ll?” says Nayoung softly, the faintest hint of a smile playing upon her lips. Daniel stares.

“Okay, maybe just me,” Jonghyun allows, unease seemingly disappearing. “Kahi isn’t really in the mood for anything at the moment.” Nayoung’s smile widens, and Daniel wonders if the world has gone crazy. He nods curtly to Nayoung and Jonghyun before walking through the door leading towards the back of the train.

 _There’s definitely something going on there,_ he thinks. Nayoung and Jonghyun clearly know each other already, but their interactions suggest an even deeper closeness. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Jonghyun look so... at ease. Whenever he’s not hidden away in his house in the Victor’s Village, he’s seen taking a walk along the shore with some girl from the training academy, always shrinking into whatever shadows he can find as though he doesn’t want to be recognized by anyone—

 _Wait,_ Daniel realizes. _That must have been Nayoung he was always walking with._

Well, if they’re buddies, then he’s even more doomed than he already was.

* * *

Nayoung doesn’t follow him to their rooms, only further confirming his suspicions. _They’re probably having a friendly_ chat _about how she should kill everyone else,_ he thinks, bitter.

His room is nice. A large window illuminates the whole room, lighting up the black and gray furniture with warmth. The bed is larger than he’s used to, nothing like the little cot he was so thankful for back in Jisung’s house. At least his feet don’t go over the edge. The sheets are jet-black; when he strips and cocoons himself within them, he’s enveloped by a pleasant darkness, in which he can finally settle down and organize his thoughts.

_What am I good at?_

He can probably use a knife just fine. Maybe he can learn how to use a spear. And he’s been in fights before—the orphanage wasn’t exactly a kind place to grow up in. What else can he do? _Can I kill?_ He’s physically strong, mostly due to his job at the harbor. He can run if he needs to. Will he need to? _Can I kill?_ Is he going to be part of the Career alliance? Is he skilled enough to be part of it? _Can I kill?_ Will the other Careers even accept him? What if they just backstab him—

 _I’m going to die._ That much he knows. But until then, how is he going to survive? How should he look to the cameras? To the wealthy people of the Capitol? To his fellow tributes?

And even then, how will he look to the people back home, in District 4? Hayi will be watching. Woojin will be watching. Jinwoo will be watching. Jisung will be watching.

Can he be someone he knows he isn’t? Can he become a merciless killer?

Daniel really can’t deal with these thoughts right now. He wriggles out of the sheets, just as someone knocks on his door. “Hold on—” he calls, scrambling from the bed.

“Jonghyun wanted me to tell you that lunch will be ready in five minutes.” Nayoung’s soft voice comes through the door. “He’s also decided that he’s going to mentor you, although I’ve told him we’ll mostly be coached together anyways.”

There’s a beat of awkward silence, where Daniel’s mouth falls open. _Huh. That’s a surprise._ “Oh… thanks,” he calls, turning to open the clothes drawer next to the bed. “I’ll… uh, I’ll be out in a bit. Thanks.”

He picks out a crisp blue shirt and a pair of black pants, then gets dressed and sits back down, running his hands absentmindedly over the smooth black sheets. There will definitely be cameras on them when they pull into the Capitol—he’s got to look okay, at least.

Not for the first time, he wishes he could run away. He wishes he could go back to District 4 and Jisung and Jinwoo and Woojin and his job at the harbor and _family_ \- but instead they get to watch him die in the most brutal way imaginable.

Daniel crosses to the window and looks out. They’re moving very quickly, passing small coastal villages elsewhere in District 4. He watches the last buildings flash by until their train enters the hills and he can’t see anything but a blur of green grass anymore. 

* * *

When Daniel enters the dining compartment, he’s immediately struck by how much _food_ there is on the table. There’s a basket filled with bread that isn’t green, and there’s meat on the table that doesn’t come from sea-dwelling creatures—both rare in District 4, especially for the poorer families.

Jonghyun is already sitting at the table, tugging at his bandages as usual. He looks up with a nervous smile when Daniel enters. Hweseung sits across from him, face expressionless, which is strange, since Daniel has never seen him without a smile. Aside from his dark purple hair, the escort actually looks pretty… normal. “Hi, Daniel,” he says, much less brightly than usual. Wary, Daniel sits to Jonghyun’s right.

He’s just taken his seat when Nayoung comes in, dressed in some sort of flowy white shirt and dark blue shorts. Next to him, Jonghyun’s back straightens, and he greets her with an easy smile. She sits down in the chair to Jonghyun’s left.

A minute of silence passes before Kahi walks in, planting herself next to Hweseung without a word. No one reacts, although Hweseung’s eyes dart between Jonghyun and Nayoung. Jonghyun looks uneasy again. “Why don’t we eat, then,” he says quietly, and they all start moving at once.

The food is really good _._ Daniel had expected that, of course, but this is beyond even his wildest dreams. There’s a large duck, roasted and covered in a sweet glaze; a spicy-smelling, soft cheese, which he spreads on fluffy rolls from the bread basket; a mix of vegetables cooked in buttery sauce; a bowl of creamy purplish-blue soup that smells like wild blueberries.

They eat in uncomfortable silence for a while, until Kahi finishes her soup and leans forward. “So,” she says, as a servant carries in a fluffy white cake, placing it in the center of the table without a word. “Im Nayoung. Why don’t we discuss your individual strategy for these Games?”

There’s an awkward pause, in which Daniel feels bewildered and Nayoung blinks in confusion, putting her fork down. “What?” she says. “I thought—I thought we had agreed to—”

“How are you going to present yourself?” Kahi interrupts. “After all, this could affect how you look as the train arrives at the Capitol.”

“Ah… Kahi—”

“Hweseung, just wait,” Kahi snaps. Daniel feels his annoyance with her growing. “Nayoung,” she continues, “I take it you’ll be going with the badass angle?”

The girl’s eyes flicker to Daniel, taking in the stony look on his face, to Hweseung, who is resolutely staring Kahi down, and then to Jonghyun, who sits hunched in on himself, as if trying to escape the tension in the air. “Yes?” she says slowly. “But… why am I being individually coached? I swear we—”

“Just _listen_ to me,” hisses Kahi, and Nayoung falls silent again, face a smooth mask. Daniel’s eyes narrow, but still he says nothing, anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach, waiting to see what happens next. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” Nayoung’s eyes settle on Daniel. He must look pretty angry, because she flinches a little. _Huh. That’s new._ “I’m here to win,” she says quietly.

“And what do you have to do to win?” asks Kahi sharply, shooting Jonghyun a look of warning when he opens his mouth to intervene. She hasn’t even spared Daniel a glance this entire time. Hweseung is now ignoring Kahi and getting himself a slice of cake, his face impassive. Jonghyun is still shrinking into his chair. Neither of them say anything.

Daniel has never felt more insulted in his entire life.

“I have to kill everyone who stands in my path,” Nayoung recites.

“Yes,” says Kahi quietly. For the first time, she smiles, dark and chilling, and finally looks at Daniel. His blood boils. “Yes, you do.” She points at him, a chuckle somehow falling from her lips. “Do you want to know why I’m doing individual coaching?”

He glares at her, feeling as though liquid fire is racing through his veins, but says nothing.

“You’re going to have to die. She’s going to have to kill you before she _wins_.”

Anger rushes through him like a flash of white-hot lightning. He doesn’t even know why he’s so angry, because _she’s right, you knew this from the moment you were reaped, you knew you were going to die, knew you were going to die, knew you were—_ but the fury that has built up spills over within him, and suddenly he’s standing up, looming over the rest of the table.

“ _Shut up,_ ” he breathes, incensed. He slams his fist down on the table, the tableware clattering. Jonghyun flinches besides him. “I know you think I’m weak. I know you think less of me because I was reaped, because I haven’t trained, because I didn’t volunteer.” Daniel thinks back to the anger in Kahi’s eyes at the square, when he was reaped. He must have completely misinterpreted her thoughts. “You were angry because Minho didn’t volunteer, weren’t you? But not because of the fact that I was selected to die because of a stupid grudge. Because that’s one less chance at a victor from District 4.

“You don’t have to help me. I’m not useless. But you can at least do your job now and laugh about my death later, don’t you think?”

Kahi has remained silent, face inscrutable, all throughout his fit of anger. Now she begins to laugh, barely even pausing for breath. Daniel’s shoulders slump, rage vanishing in the face of such mockery, and suddenly he feels so exhausted, so drained. _Way to go,_ he tells himself bitterly. _You just destroyed any remaining chance you might have had at surviving for a few more days._

“Kang Daniel,” she finally says, a genuine smile on her face, “you've passed my test. At least now I know that you have the capability to be angry. To be dangerous.” Daniel stares at her. “Before this all you did was look like a puppy. Maybe you’re not so dead after all.”

And with that, she gets up and walks out of the compartment, leaving the other occupants of the room in various states of shock and confusion.

* * *

Hweseung sends them back to their private chambers to nap until the reaping recaps are aired. Daniel doesn’t know what to think of what’s happened, so he chooses instead to not think about anything at all, sinking into the bed and immediately falling asleep.

 _The door was blasted open, and before he could even react, a rough voice was shouting, “_ Crucio! _” The pain exploded across Daniel’s body, drawing screams from his throat and carrying him, thrashing, into the air. Someone was laughing, a long, drawn-out cackle that never seemed to stop for breath, and the pain just wouldn’t stop._

_“Please…” he begged, but the laughter only seemed to grow louder, more crazed._

_He could still hear laughter, and then it stopped and he was thrown against a wall; he opened his eyes and there was a wand, his own, pointed in his face. It jerked a little, and he could feel cuts being opened on his skin, then deeper, pain exploding in front of his eyes._

_Daniel could only try desperately to keep tears of pain from appearing, unwilling to give his tormentor that satisfaction. He cried out and blinked blood from his eyes and struggled to breathe and suddenly—_

_Suddenly there was movement elsewhere in the room, and the sound of a body hitting the ground; when he could see again, there he was, standing in front of Daniel, holding his hand. His face was close enough that despite his blurry vision, Daniel could count the three moles on his cheek, could see the way he held his weight off his left foot, could see the blood drying in his dark hair. His mouth was moving, but Daniel could hear nothing through the ringing of his own ears._

_Someone else ran in through the broken door and the boy turned around, panic written all over his face, red jets of light shooting from the tip of his wand as more and more hooded figures poured into the room. Daniel’s eyes slid shut, the hand he was holding his only anchor to consciousness._

_When Daniel regained his senses enough for his hearing to return, they were surrounded. Masked, hooded people had the other boy pinned, their wands pointed at his throat. One of the hooded figures said, “Do it. Make him watch.”_

_They seemed to like that idea, chuckling amongst themselves. The boy cried out, struggling frantically, frozen in place. “No, please! Anything else. No, please, take me instead—”_

_“Oh, shut up,” one of their captors sneered. “Disgusting, and a blood traitor to boot._ Crucio! _”_

_The boy screamed, thrashing and sobbing, fingers twitching. Daniel struggled to speak, to move; helpless, he gripped the boy’s wrist even more tightly than before, too weak to do anything else. His fingers slid over warm metal—a worn silver bracelet._

_Someone laughed. “Daniel,” the boy gasped, writhing. “Daniel, I love you—”_

_“Seongwoo,” he croaked. “I—”_

“Avada Kedavra! _”_

_A flash of green lit up his vision, and then, with Seongwoo’s voice calling his name, he sank into darkness—_

Daniel sits bolt upright, panting heavily.

_The same dreams. But now I have a name._

_Seongwoo,_ he thinks, burying his head in his hands and willing himself to stop shaking. There are tears on his cheeks and he’s trembling like a leaf and _who is Seongwoo? What kind of a world was that? What is going on?_

He rises slowly, wiping away his tears. _Such vivid dreams of death can never mean well._ And yet some part of him remembers, some part of him aches whenever he thinks about that name.

At least he’s already starting to forget the finer details of his dream. All he remembers now is a vague feeling of loss and pain… and _Seongwoo._

* * *

If the others notice how shaken he looks, they certainly don’t mention it. Hweseung leads him to another compartment with a large screen so that they can watch the reapings. Kahi rejoins them as they sit down, holding a notebook in one hand.

They start with District 12. The female tribute is Kim Sohye, fifteen years old. She’s scrawny, underfed, and starts to cry immediately after her name is called. “She doesn’t look like she’s faking it,” says Hweseung thoughtfully.

“Noh Taehyun!” the escort announces. At once the crowd parts, murmuring, to reveal a rather short and wiry boy. He looks up at the cameras as he climbs to the stage, and it’s hard to miss the fiery look in his eyes. “How old are you, Taehyun?”

“Eighteen,” says the boy, scowling at the escort.

“Oh, this one’s a threat,” Kahi murmurs, jotting something down. “He knows how to survive.”

District 11 is relatively uninteresting. The girl, Yoo Yeonjung, is fifteen. She glowers at the crowd as she goes up, but her fear is visible. The male tribute is Jung Sewoon, a seventeen-year-old who spaces out when asked to shake hands with his district partner.

“He’s cute, he’ll probably get some female sponsors,” mutters Hweseung under his breath. Kahi nods and writes it down.

The girl from District 10, Choi Yoojung, bursts into tears when her name is called. She’s young, just fourteen, and it doesn’t seem like she’ll survive very long. The boy starts to cry as well, but he’s pretty muscular for a fifteen-year-old; he looks like he’s done hard physical labor for years. Daniel narrows his eyes—this guy is suspicious.

“This Joo Haknyeon,” Nayoung says quietly, voicing Daniel’s thoughts, “he’s definitely not as soft and weak as he’s acting. He’s a threat.” Kahi raises her eyebrows, but writes something down anyways.

District 9 has Jung Chaeyeon, sixteen, and Kim Jaehwan, seventeen. “Chaeyeon is _gorgeous_ ,” notes Hweseung, almost lazily. “She doesn’t look very strong, but she could pull lots of sponsors.”

District 8’s tributes are both very young. Jeon Somi, thirteen, and Lee Daehwi, fourteen. Everyone in the viewing room lets out a sad sigh when they hold each other’s hands for comfort. _They must be friends,_ Daniel thinks.

They can immediately tell that District 7’s tributes might pose a threat. “Kim Sejeong!” the escort calls, and immediately a few girls start to cry in the crowd. The girl who’s just been reaped hushes them, speaking what looks to be words of comfort before ascending to her place on the stage. She looks determined, fearless.

“Kim Sejeong, seventeen,” muses Kahi, jotting down another note. “Watch out for her, you guys.” Daniel is a little surprised that she’s talking to him—maybe her attitude earlier was really just to test him?

He’s lost in thought, watching absentmindedly as the escort prattles on about something, until—

“—Woojin!”

“What?” he gasps. Jonghyun jumps a little at the loudness of his voice, and Nayoung puts a hand on his shoulder. “Woojin? What—”

“Park Woojin,” Kahi says, almost soothingly. He blinks at her, still uncomprehending. “It’s not your Woojin. This is District 7.”

“Oh,” he says dumbly. “Oh, I...” He looks around. Everyone is staring at him. “How did you know—”

“I visit the orphanage sometimes,” Kahi whispers, as Park Woojin ascends the stage. He looks nervous, and his voice is small and shaky, but Daniel sees a quiet strength in his shoulders and wonders how long this Woojin will survive. _Fifteen years old._ “All Lee Woojin talks about is you. I just didn’t know what you looked like.”

The female from District 6 is Kim Chungha, seventeen. She looks strong and doesn’t seem very nervous. The male tribute, Ahn Hyungseob, is a thin fifteen-year-old who stumbles on his way up to the stage and stammers out his own name, but he doesn’t even look embarrassed or scared. “He’s going to be charming and get a lot of sponsors here too,” Hweseung sighs. “They love this type of stuff.”

Neither of District 5’s tributes look remotely threatening. Han Hyeri, the female tribute, is sixteen—she’s very cute, but looks like she’s never done a day’s worth of hard work. Bae Jinyoung, the male tribute, is fourteen—he looks hopeless and gloomy as he stares out over the crowd. Both look hopelessly underfed.

Then District 4 is playing. He watches Nayoung walk up to the stage, strong and confident, and then Hweseung is calling his name and he watches his own face anxiously, hoping he doesn’t look scared. “You were very brave,” says Jonghyun softly.

The Daniel on the screen is blank-faced, emotionless, with no sign of the panic that had taken over his heart. As he’s walking the camera cuts to Jisung and Jinwoo, draped over each other, sobbing. Everyone in the viewing room groans; for the first time that day, Daniel can feel tears prickling at his eyes. He covers his face, and someone pats his shoulder sympathetically.

When he finally comes back to himself, they’re well into the District 3 reapings. The female tribute is already standing onstage, still crying. “Kang Mina, fourteen,” Nayoung whispers to him. The District 3 escort is turning towards the glass ball with the boys’ names.

“Ha Sungwoon!”

The crowd parts immediately, murmuring, and a short boy steps out. Daniel is immediately struck by the defiant look on his face. “He’s just like Noh Taehyun, the District 12 tribute,” he says aloud.

“Except cuter,” says Hweseung, face straight. Everyone in the room laughs a little.

Sungwoon is eighteen, too. Kahi marks him as a contender. “He’s not as strong-looking as the 12 male, but you should still watch out for him. He might get more sponsors with that face.”

Next up is District 2—the first of their Career ally districts. The girl is Kim Doyeon, a sixteen-year-old girl who volunteers without a moment of hesitation. Hweseung whistles appreciatively as she walks up to the stage. “She’s beautiful, and from a Career district. I don’t think the District 9 girl will be getting many sponsors now.”

“Do you ever stop being thirsty, Hweseung?” mumbles Jonghyun under his breath. Hweseung shrugs.

Someone volunteers for the male tribute as well, just as everyone expects. Daniel is just turning away from the screen to get himself a glass of water when he hears it, and his world comes crashing down around him.

“How old are you? And what is your name?”

“Eighteen years old. Ong Seongwoo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for teasing you so much and not even putting Seongwoo into the story yet :P He's coming very soon, I promise.  
> If you're confused by anything that's happened this chapter, I'd be happy to explain it in the comments and/or make changes as needed! :D  
> One possibly confusing thing is the Harry Potter AU segment I wrote in. Remember Daniel's dreams of alternate universes from the last chapter? This was one of those, except really vivid. No full-length HP!au for you :P  
> ✿  
> [tumblr here](https://luxsideris.tumblr.com)  
> 


	3. distress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel arrives at the Capitol. Things happen despite nothing happening at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> distress: pain or suffering affecting the body, a bodily part, or the mind

_Ong Seongwoo._

He whips around, mind a jumbled mess.

_Ong Seongwoo. Seongwoo. Ong Seongwoo._

Sure enough, that same boy that’s been haunting his dreams is right there, looking boldly into the camera. Cocky expression, good posture, tall height. When the camera zooms in on his face, Daniel can just make out the three moles on his cheek.

_Eighteen years old. Ong Seongwoo._

Daniel looks away from the screen before he can make a distressed sound. He’s been dreaming about Ong Seongwoo. And now…

_I volunteer as tribute. Eighteen years old. Ong Seongwoo._

Has he been dreaming about his future killer? Or was he dreaming about his own star-crossed lover? Just the thought makes him feel terrified.

“Are you okay, Daniel?” says Nayoung, looking at him in concern. He’s been staring into space for the past thirty seconds, look of shock plastered on his face. “District 1 is on, you might want to see who they have to offer…?”

“I… yeah,” he says, fumbling to pick up his glass of water and sit back down. “Yeah.”

Hweseung is starting to ramble about how pretty the sixteen-year-old girl from District 1 is—her name is Zhou Jieqiong. Daniel watches blankly, head still spinning. _I’m going to have to fight the boy I’ve been dreaming about. To the death. I’m going to have to kill Ong Seongwoo if I want to—_

He stops himself. Since when did he think he was going to win these Games?

The male volunteer is fifteen years old—a rather young age for a Career volunteer. Hweseung insists that he’ll get the most sponsors of all. “Park Jihoon is everything the Capitol women want out of a District 1 boy,” he announces to no one. “He’s going to be rolling in sponsor money.”

“Did someone give him alcohol again?” Jonghyun deadpans.

Watching the District 1 boy smile brightly for the cameras, Daniel can’t help the sinking feeling in his stomach. He doesn’t know why, but something feels off about this Jihoon—something beyond the fact that they’re going to have to fight each other within the next few days. Considering his weird dreams lately, he wouldn’t be surprised if this bad feeling is justified later.

And just like that, the Reapings are over. They all rise from their spots. “We’ll be arriving soon, in about thirty minutes. While the train is pulling into the station at the Capitol, make sure you’re visible in the dining room window. Nayoung, look intimidating. You already know how to do that. And Daniel,” Kahi instructs, “You’re going to go with the whole nice guy thing. You’ve got that down already, but anyways, you should smile and wave. Don’t look scared.” Daniel nods in agreement as they begin to head back to their rooms. “Get ready to leave, and make sure to take the things you brought with you, if you still want them.”

Back in his room, Daniel gathers his coat and shirt from the floor. The rough material feels so _right_ on his skin as he picks it up; he finds a large black leather bag in one of the drawers, and he stuffs the clothing into it and slings it over his shoulder, making sure Woojin’s carving is still in his coat pocket.

He stands at the window, gazing out at the blurred colors as they flash by. The sun is beginning to set, bathing the passing hills in golden light. A flash of particularly bright color catches his eye, and he can just make out the shape of a gleaming rainbow city in the distance.

 _The Capitol,_ he realizes. _We’re really almost there._

Suddenly all his fear hits him at once and he collapses back onto the bed with a shudder. He’s not ready to go in there. He’s not ready for his every move to be analyzed, for his every action to mean the difference between life and death. _Hell, I’d even prefer the shadowy dreams of death I have over this._

There’s no turning back now. Slowly, Daniel heads for the dining compartment, shutting the door of his room behind him.

* * *

When Daniel opens the door to the dining compartment, he at first thinks he’s alone. Then there’s a flash of movement by a window and he spins around and _oh, there’s Jonghyun and Nayoung,_ who just jumped apart when he entered. They’re still standing very close. Both look somewhat disheveled.

 _Oh,_ he thinks, suddenly understanding what’s going on. _Oh. So that’s how it is._

“Do you… uh… need me to leave?” he offers haltingly, mentally cursing himself for not realizing it earlier. Nayoung _blushes._ This has been such a weird day.

“No, we—no,” says Jonghyun, offering him a tight smile. They fall silent, all three of them smiling awkwardly at the floor until Kahi opens the door, rolling her eyes, and tells Jonghyun he has Nayoung’s lipstick on his lips.

They’re pulling into the city now, slowing as they approach the train station. Kahi motions for Daniel and Nayoung to stand closer to the window. “Stand up straight,” she orders. “Okay, here we go.”

The Capitol is beautiful, Daniel sees, but not in an authentic way. It’s artificial beauty, the rainbow-colored buildings too bright, the vehicles too shiny, the people too garishly dressed. There’s a crowd gathered along the way to the station, shouting and pointing at the train excitedly.

 _They’re excited to watch me die._ Daniel feels sick.

He pushes the thought back down, doing his best to smile and wave. Some of the women start waving back and screaming. Daniel’s stomach turns, but he keeps his smile on. At his side, Nayoung stares out at the crowd with a stony expression. The men in the crowd are going crazy; from the corner of his eye, Daniel can see her lip curling in disgust.

“Blow them a kiss, Daniel,” Kahi instructs. He does, and half the crowd tries to catch it. He’s pretty sure someone faints out of excitement. _Well. This is interesting._

He keeps smiling and waving until the train pulls into the station and the crowd is lost from view, then turns to exit the train. Hweseung stops him. “Daniel,” he says quietly, backing him into a corner. “I’m just going to tell you what’s about to happen, because I know you haven’t been trained for this.  Right now we’re going to bring you to your rooms. We’ll have dinner in a few hours, and then you’re free to sleep or do something else in your room. I recommend visiting the roof tonight, before all the other tributes arrive.

“We’re going to the Remake Center first thing tomorrow morning. Your prep team will get you ready for the stylist. Don’t resist anything they do, they know what they’re doing. Your stylist… well, I’ll let you meet him yourself. He’s a good stylist and a good person—talk to him, get to know him. Are you with me?” Daniel nods, suddenly at a loss for words. Hweseung’s image at the Reaping, all bubbly and enthusiastic, is so different from this Hweseung, ultra-focused and knowledgeable.

“Grab your bag,” says Hweseung to him, smile already in place, looking out at the reporters who swarm the train platform. “It’s showtime.”

* * *

They’re led onto a crystal elevator and then to their rooms in the Training Center. The train quarters were fancy, but this room is even larger and more luxurious, decked out in blue and green. The District 4 floor is higher up than Daniel would have thought _—_ he can see far into the city from his window, and when he examines it more closely, it can zoom in on different parts of the Capitol, enough for him to distinguish the eye colors of random people walking on the streets. The closet seems endless; there’s a weird mouthpiece with a menu next to it, apparently for ordering food at any time. For now, though, he decides to just wait for dinner.

He sits down on the bed and curls into a ball. Just earlier today he was home, eating breakfast with Jisung and Jinwoo. He would have gone down to the orphanage after the reaping to find little Woojin. Now he’s alone in the face of overwhelming fear, and… he doesn’t know how to feel. Beyond fear, he doesn’t know how he feels about all of this. Strangely enough, he doesn’t feel like he’s given up. He had been so ready to accept his death, but he’s not ready to die just yet.

_There’s still a chance that I can go home. Home to Jisung and Jinwoo and Woojin._

Then that _name_ beats in his mind like a second heart, and he curls in on himself more tightly than before, hand instinctively slipping into his coat pocket to grasp his token. It feels like he’s clutching a piece of home, and it soothes him a little, but not enough.

_Seongwoo. Ong Seongwoo. Seongwoo._

He’d almost forgotten about him in all the excitement of their arrival. How could he have ever forgotten? Well, he knows he won’t now.

_Eighteen years old. Ong Seongwoo._

He’d been dreaming of him, that face, that name, and now that Daniel had finally found him, it was here, in these Hunger Games. Was there such a thing as fate?

_Seongwoo._

He fumbles with the name, eyes fluttering shut, the word dropping from his lips in barely a whisper. “Seongwoo,” he breathes. “Ong Seongwoo… are you going to kill me?”

He doesn’t get an answer, of course. But Daniel ponders his own question for a while, and when he finally thinks he knows the answer, he feels the possibility of his own death drop squarely onto his shoulders, weighing heavily upon him even as he dozes off.

* * *

Dinner is amazing, of course. The Capitol food is even richer than the train fare. There’s lamb stew with dried plums, another basket of soft rolls, a platter of heavily spiced vegetables, and some sort of orange chicken. The awkward atmosphere that Kahi had created at the last dinner is gone—everyone talks about everything, from training academy antics to the best District 4 fish vendor, from Games strategy to what Nayoung and Daniel should wear. At some point Hweseung launches into gossip about the other escorts’ stupidity, and _—_ well, none of them would ever admit it, but it’s interesting enough that no one wants to stop him.

“...and I saw those pictures of you guys on the train, everyone was going crazy over them in the escort meeting area earlier,” Hweseung says, leaning forward. “They—well, now you know how all the other escorts are, they’re pretty dramatic and petty, but they managed to agree on one thing, and that was the fact that you guys look like very big threats. Contenders for victory.” He smiles at them, almost proudly, and leans back in his chair, chewing happily at his chicken. “Some potential sponsors that were there took particular notice of you, Nayoung. You’re going to have a lot of support—just make sure to do things that can keep that support. And Daniel, all the girls are gushing over you. There weren’t many potential female sponsors there yet, but once there are, they’ll be all over you. I mean, these are Capitol people, you know? They love their handsome and beautiful tributes so much, it’s like they’ve never seen anyone pretty in their lives.”

“That’s how you act too, Hweseung,” Kahi says drily. Hweseung looks even more proud.

They finish dinner and start on dessert, a lemon pie with some sort of stiff white substance on it. “That’s meringue,” says Nayoung, when Daniel looks confused. He tastes some. It’s sweet and strangely familiar—he can’t seem to remember why.

The silent servants show up to collect their plates soon afterwards. Jonghyun stands up and awkwardly leaves the table, heading for the elevator; Nayoung trails after him, excusing herself as well. “They’re not even trying to be subtle at this point,” mutters Kahi under her breath, but she’s smiling fondly. “You should also check out the roof later, Daniel. Only a few districts are here right now, so it’s better to do it now, before everyone shows up.” Hweseung nods at him, so he thanks them and leaves.

He doesn’t go up to the roof immediately. Instead, he goes back to his room and changes into more comfortable clothing—a loose white shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. Then he puts on his coat and heads to the elevator, pressing the button that takes him to the District 12 floor.

The 12 floor is dark. No one is even there yet—District 12 is farther away from the Capitol than any other district. Lights flicker on at his arrival, though, and Daniel finds a small staircase marked “Roof” near the elevator. He emerges into a small dome-shaped room with two doors across from each other; he goes through the one to his left first.

The rooftop is well-lit, the evening breeze pleasantly cool. Daniel can make out the shapes of Jonghyun and Nayoung to one side—they’re sitting side by side, hand in hand. Even as he watches, she’s leaning on his shoulder, fingers stroking tenderly over the bandage on his wrist. Feeling like he’s intruding on a private moment, Daniel quietly retreats into the shadows on the other side of the rooftop, eyes averted.

He looks out over the edge of the roof. The streets below are a rippling rainbow of bright lights, shining like a colorful sea in the night. He imagines himself falling, plunging to the sidewalk below, breaking into red and black shards among the neon colors when he hits the ground, but he stows the thought away as soon as it hits him—it leaves a bad kind of familiarity in its wake, almost like he’s experienced it before.

It’s here, perched at the top of the Training Center tower, that he thinks about Seongwoo again. Thinks of him falling, plunging, breaking, thinks of him struggling, screaming, sobbing. Helpless. _“No, please, take me instead _—_ ” _

“Daniel?”

Jonghyun’s voice sounds behind him, and he starts, turning.  Jonghyun and Nayoung are standing near the door that leads back into the dome. “Ah,” Daniel says. “Hi. Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, might as well get some sleep, right?”

They turn to leave when suddenly the door opens and a woman steps out onto the roof. “Why, if it isn’t Kim Jonghyun,” she practically purrs. Jonghyun recoils like he’s been physically slapped; Nayoung looks at him with concern.

“What are you doing here?” Jonghyun snaps. Nayoung grips his arm tightly. Daniel has somehow never seen Jonghyun this upset before, and it scares him a little.

“Manners, Jonghyun,” says the woman, a little too sweetly. She leers at Nayoung. “Oh, isn’t this your girl? Im Nayoung, is it? A _pleasure_ to meet you.” Nayoung stares the woman down as she begins to walk towards Daniel. He can smell alcohol. “Oh, is this your third wheel? Hello there. What’s your name again?”

Somehow Daniel finds words in the awkward pause that follows. “Kang Daniel,” he mumbles. “And you are…?”

“Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, didn’t I? I’m sorry, how rude of me. Lee Haein, District 1 mentor. Victor of the 97th Hunger Games.” She holds her hand out for Daniel to shake; he doesn’t move, instead standing still and watching her with one eyebrow raised. Daniel really has to give her credit—she doesn’t even react to his snub, instead quickly withdrawing her hand and smiling even more sweetly than before. Her presence is deeply unsettling to Daniel, and he just wishes she would go away, especially with the reaction Jonghyun seems to be having to her words. The scent of liquor is only growing stronger.

“What are you doing here, Haein?” says Jonghyun softly, tiredly. He sounds resigned, as if he already knows what she’s doing here but doesn’t dare say it.

She tips her head. Watching. Waiting. The wind catches her long brown hair and the light from the nearby lamps makes her eyes sparkle and suddenly she looks ethereal, the very picture of a gorgeous District 1 Victor. But there’s still an odd gleam in her eye, a strange stiffness on her face, something like hate, something that Jonghyun seems very afraid of.

Suddenly all of them know what she’s going to say before she says it.

 _“Hwang Minhyun,”_ Haein simpers, still smiling in that sickeningly sweet way. Jonghyun flinches. “Ah, Jonghyun. I see nothing has changed. Do you still dream about him drowning?” Jonghyun seems to shrink into himself a little more with every second that passes. Her expression twists. “Do you still wake up screaming with his blood on your hands? With his name on your lips?”

Jonghyun is shaking his head frantically, backing away from her, pressing himself against the outer wall of the dome. Nayoung hasn’t moved—she’s seemingly frozen, still staring at Haein, horror on her face now.

“Choi Minki,” she whispers, voice seemingly stolen by the whistling wind. The malice is gone from her eyes now, replaced by something more dull and pained, but she’s still talking. “Choi Minki and Hwang Minhyun. Even Kang Dongho. You couldn’t protect any of them. Hell, you even killed one of them. Do you still feel guilty, Kim Jonghyun? Do you?”

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?” he replies, voice quavering.

She laughs then, a brief and unhappy sound. “You know why.” She turns to Daniel. “I’m not a bad person, I promise,” she says simply, with a bitter smile. “I just tell the harsh truth.”

With that, she goes back through the dome room door, leaving the three of them to their own thoughts.

* * *

At some point afterwards Daniel makes it back to his room. Nayoung had basically dragged a frozen Jonghyun through the door two minutes after Haein left, shooting Daniel an apologetic glance; he hadn’t had the heart to say anything to either of them on their way out. Now, lying in the darkness, he’s thinking about Jonghyun’s victory… if it could really be called that at all.

_The 100th Hunger Games had been a Quarter Quell. The punishment for that year was that two tributes, regardless of gender, would be reaped from each district, and there would be no volunteers allowed. Jonghyun had trained before, but he had given up on becoming a volunteer already; when he was reaped, the whole District knew he was ready to be a tribute, but that he was scared of becoming a monster._

_Jonghyun had always been somewhat of a loner once he left the training academy. When he got to the Capitol, he really bonded with the male tributes from the Career districts—Choi Minki and Hwang Minhyun of District 1 and Kang Dongho of District 2. Their friendship was easy to see and highlighted in the Capitolian media, who seemed (in an awful way) to love the brother-like bond between trainees who would soon have to fight to the death._

_Their home districts all knew what was coming. No one could do anything to stop it._

_When the Games began, the four of them secured the Cornucopia, driving away all the other tributes. Jonghyun didn’t make a single kill, but the other three did. They had the supplies and the advantageous position _—_ near a cool oasis, while all the other tributes had to struggle through burning hot desert. _

_The Gamemakers would never let things be that easy. Of course they wouldn’t._

_Using traps, they drove stronger tributes towards the alliance; Dongho was killed in one such clash. They grieved, of course, but none of them could do anything. District 1 watched Minki grow more bitter and Minhyun withdraw more; District 4 watched Jonghyun place the blame for his friend’s death squarely upon his own shoulders._

_Then the Capitol sent snake muttations after everyone. Minki fell and Minhyun stopped talking; Jonghyun had no idea what to do._

_Down to two, where they had been four._

_They endured._

Daniel shuts his eyes. He sleeps but he doesn’t dream about his own death, not this time. Instead _—_

_The flood hit, and they scrambled for cover, up to the high, prickly tree that overlooked the oasis. Higher, drier caves were already occupied by tributes; they had no other choice. Jonghyun was up the tree first, heaving his backpack up along with him; he turned back and watched Minhyun, begging the District 1 tribute to hurry._

_Suddenly a high wave swept by, and another, and another _—_ and Minhyun was hanging onto the branch, Jonghyun was moving down to grab him by the hand, then both hands. He anchored himself on a higher branch and leaned down and started to pull Minhyun up as the water receded, leaving the District 1 tribute dangling in midair _—__

_The districts held their breath._

_Jonghyun suddenly seemed to realize something. For just one moment, for his only moment ever, he stilled and seemed to have a selfish thought._

_District 4 could breathe again. District 1 knew they were going to suffocate, but they breathed anyway._

_His face was expressionless. Minhyun looked up at him, and the districts knew,_ Minhyun _knew what was coming _—_ he was aware of what was about to happen, even if Jonghyun himself still wasn’t _—__

_Kim Jonghyun let go._

_Hwang Minhyun vanished into the water._

_Jonghyun’s regret hit him almost immediately, but even that was too late. For minutes he sat on his branch, frozen. Then, long after Minhyun’s cannon had fired, he sobbed for hours, hand still outstretched._

_“Minhyun, I’m sorry _—_ ” _

Daniel is dreaming still, but _—_

_“ _—_ no, please, take me instead _—_ ” _

That’s the line that jolts Daniel awake. That's where he realizes that he's not dreaming about Jonghyun anymore, but Seongwoo again _—_ it's the knowledge that he can't escape whatever twisted fate lies in wait for him and this Ong Seongwoo that causes him to sit bolt upright in bed with his heart racing a million miles a minute.

It’s morning already. There’s sunlight coming in through the blinds drawn over his window. He feels exhausted, as though he hasn’t slept a wink, but he gets up for breakfast anyways. Somehow, even when he’s having nightmares about someone else’s death, he gets back to Ong Seongwoo in the end.

 _Of course._ He’s tired. They haven’t even met yet. They don't even know each other. _Right?_

_So why does it hurt so much when I wake up?_

The chariot ceremony is tonight. Daniel is going to meet Seongwoo soon. He’s sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok I'M SORRY I TOLD SOME OF YOU SEONGWOO WOULD BE IN THIS CHAPTER but I also promised a Jonghyun backstory and this happened... idk... I'm sorry guys haha. next chapter Seongwoo will show up. Daniel literally promises that.  
> ✿  
> [tumblr here](https://luxsideris.tumblr.com)  
> 


	4. doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel finally meets Seongwoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> doom: unhappy destiny

Daniel ends up sitting alone on a table in the Remake Center later that morning, clad in only a robe, waiting for his prep team to come. _This has not been the greatest introduction to the Capitol,_ he thinks, somewhat self-conscious. Jonghyun had been jumpy and nervous all morning, and Nayoung had just looked exhausted. Kahi must have had some idea of what was going on, because her face was dark throughout breakfast. Hweseung had sensed the dark atmosphere immediately and hadn’t said a word during the entire meal.

He’s still lost in his thoughts when the door suddenly flies open, and three brightly colored figures come running in so fast that Daniel almost falls off the table in shock. “Hi! We’re your prep team!” they chorus eagerly, circling him like flies. “Let’s take a look at what we have to work with this year!” one chirps, undoing the robe. Daniel gulps a little, resisting the urge to shield himself from their enthusiastic eyes, but manages not to move.

They introduce themselves. Junwoo’s hair is black-and-blonde; he has spiraling black tattoos all the way down his neck and dark purple lipstick. Contrary to his look, he’s quite cheery. Jungmin has electric-blue lips and eyes, but her long hair is a striking jet-black; she speaks the least, her head always down. Jung Jung has curled orange-red hair and skin like porcelain, with lines of sparkling silver ink blooming on his arms; he always has a smile on his face. Their fashion is all very contrived to Daniel, but he supposes it could be worse.

They start their work, and it’s... _weird._ That’s the only way Daniel knows how to describe it. He appreciates that their efforts are apparently going to make him look more attractive, but he feels like a fish out of water with its scales being removed.

Daniel watches the clock on the wall. Three hours pass. By the end of it all his skin is raw and stinging and he feels intensely vulnerable; he doesn’t resist, though, remembering Hweseung’s words.

“We’re done!” shrieks Junwoo, smiling widely at him. “You’ve been so cooperative! We’re going to go call Yongjin now—ta ta ta!” With that, he goes running out the door, Jung Jung rushing after him. Jungmin smiles at him and follows them without a word.

 _Yongjin must be my stylist, then._ Daniel sits back down on the table, furtively checking his body to see what the prep team has done. They'd really done a good job, even though the entire process was pretty uncomfortable for him.

It's not long before the door opens and a young man walks in. His brown hair is highlighted with pastel green, and his full lips are curved in a gentle smile. Daniel likes him already.

“Hi, Daniel,” he says, voice surprisingly soft. “I'm your stylist, Yongjin.”

He observes Daniel from afar, eyes intense. “You’re going to look very good in the suit we’ve designed for you.” Yongjin flashes him another smile, and Daniel smiles hesitantly back.

“Weren’t you Jonghyun’s stylist last year?”

“I was,” Yongjin nods. “Last year District 4 had a victor. Maybe we’ll have another one this year?”

Daniel’s smile dies a little on his face, and Yongjin clearly notices, because he sighs and pats Daniel on the back. “I’m sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have brought it up…”

He allows Daniel to put on his thin robe, then leads him to another room for lunch. “District 4 is all about fishing,” he says as they finish eating. “Fishing has been used as the concept almost every single year, whether it’s through nets or hooks or lines. I’m sure you’ve seen that?” Daniel nods, recalling last year’s outfits, where Jonghyun and the female tribute were wearing clothes somehow woven from fishing line, and winces a little. Will the District 4 clothing be uncomfortably see-through again?

“Yes… we thought that was getting a little boring. This year we’re going to try something different,” Yongjin announces, picking up a notepad from a side table. He hands it over wordlessly.

The first thing Daniel sees is a glossy photo of a beach, all white sand and bright blue water, waves captured in midair. _This has to be from southern District 4,_ he thinks wistfully. The next page contains a simple sketch of a suit, in varying shades of silver and blue ink. He looks up at Yongjin, excitement building, but the stylist says nothing, just smiling and lazily gesturing for him to keep looking.

The third page has a scrap of shimmering navy blue fabric taped to it. Daniel holds the notepad up; the fabric catches a beam of sunlight and seems to ripple, giving the illusion of light filtering through water.

“Kaeun and I wanted something breathtaking, something that we hadn’t ever done before, something that _no one_ had ever done before. So for this year we got down to the most basic concept we could and went from there.” Yongjin takes the notepad back. “This time, we decided to focus on water itself. We went to many of District 4’s beaches and then worked on the design while in a rented submarine off the southern coast.”

“That must have taken a lot of time,” Daniel murmurs, awestruck. Even by hovercraft, District 4’s southern coast is very far away from the Capitol.

Yongjin shrugs. “My job is to make you look amazing. Unforgettable,” he explains, getting up and walking towards a small door in a corner of the room. Daniel follows him over. “The rest is up to you. In the meantime, let’s get you into this suit.”

* * *

Daniel usually doesn’t have a reason to look good. Nor does he ever have the money.

His job at the harbor is always dirty and sweaty and unappealing. Unloading heavy boxes all day really doesn’t leave much energy or time for doing anything else. He usually just goes home after work days and sleeps until the next morning—although even that’s been hard lately, with all those weird dreams.

So when he looks at himself in the mirror a few hours later, he’s shocked at what he sees. For maybe the first time in years, he doesn’t look tired. Instead, he looks… well, _handsome._ Yongjin has applied light makeup and styled his hair so that it looks like he’s glistening under summer sunlight, like he’s just gotten out of a glittering pool.

Except he really hasn’t gotten out of the water. Daniel is wearing a sleek navy suit made out of the fabric Yongjin designed. When he moves, light ripples across the suit in a great gleaming wave. He really looks like he’s wearing the ocean—and the fabric feels so smooth on his skin that he might as well be.

His tie is made of a similar material, just in a lighter blue, with an iridescent seashell clipped to it.

“There will be lots of sponsors there tonight,” says Yongjin breezily from behind Daniel. “Make sure you wave and blow kisses, everyone around me really seemed to like it when you did that on the way in.” Daniel nods, feeling the pressure beginning to weigh upon his shoulders. His stylist pats him on the back.

“You’re ready to get all the girls.” Yongjin looks up and they awkwardly meet eyes in the mirror, both nervous for different reasons. “Er… all the sponsors. In general.”

Suddenly Daniel is laughing, a lightness sweeping through his entire body, and so is Yongjin, the cheerful sound putting Daniel at ease.

_You’re going to be just fine._

* * *

They meet Nayoung and her stylist Kaeun in front of the elevator. Nayoung is wearing a layered dress made out of the same shimmery material that makes up his suit. Light blue ruffles cascade down around her silver heels like a waterfall; her hair is braided with fine silver thread, glittering in the elevator’s bright light. Daniel stares for a moment when they’re in the elevator; judging by how she does the same to him, he must look pretty good, too. He feels a flash of pride.

They arrive at the bottom of the Remake Center. Some tributes are already there, dressed in their district outfits; Daniel discreetly looks for anything resembling District 2, but sees nothing.

Kaeun guides them towards their chariot—it's encrusted with blue and green jewels and drawn by gray horses, their coats shining dully like silvery fish scales. “Make sure to stand up straight,” she says almost boredly as they climb in. “I’m sure you two know how to look good. Would you like to hold hands, or—”

“No!” they both blurt at the same time. Kaeun chuckles, puts her hands up in surrender, and retreats.

Ahead of them, District 1 is already rolling out, their chariot drawn by pure white horses. Daniel looks to his side, taking a deep breath, and Nayoung looks right back, one eyebrow raised. “Ready?” she asks, giving him a small smile.

He breathes out. “Ready.”

Another voice suddenly cuts in. “Oh, and by the way, Daniel, once you’re outside in the City Circle, your shirt _might_ go a little transparent. Not that you have anything to worry about, but—”

Nayoung starts cracking up. Daniel groans and leans forward, almost tipping the chariot over. “Yongjin, did you wait to tell me that on purpose?”

The stylist grins at him, not guilty in the slightest. “What? You’ve got a good body. And it’s not like your pants are going to vanish! It’ll be just fine.”

Daniel sighs, but resigns himself to his fate, settling back into the chariot and standing up as straight as he possibly can. Another moment passes, and then they're moving, the horses surging forward to follow the District 3 chariot in front of them.

The noise as their chariot emerges into the Capitol evening is insane, an odd mix of screams of wordless excitement and various tributes’ names. Daniel can see the Capitol people starting to notice their arrival, the crowd’s hands moving to point in their direction; he does his best to put on a genuine smile, although it probably comes out a little strained.

“Kang Daniel!” a female voice screams to his left. He looks in that general direction, past Nayoung, who’s rolling her eyes at him, and waves. He blows a kiss in the other direction, and many colorfully decorated hands reach to catch it, the screams around him only growing louder.

He looks down at his shirt, and sure enough, it’s turning translucent. Capitol girls start shrieking, probably about his muscles or something, so he looks back up and smiles at the crowd again, trying not to roll his eyes.

They pull into the City Circle soon after, the horses coming to a practiced stop. Daniel looks up to the big screens in the Circle as they zoom in on all the tributes.

District 12, as usual, is wearing fire. It's been done so many times that it's getting a little boring, but the Capitol seems to be eating it up anyways. Taehyun in particular looks striking, cheeky grin highlighted by a raging crown of flames upon his head.

District 11 are draped in different flowers. Sewoon is blinking in that dopey way of his at the cameras, brushing a sunflower petal from his forehead; Yeonjung smiles nervously at the crowd, looking cute in her red flower crown. They seem to be a crowd favorite— everyone coos when their faces come up on the screen.

District 10 are dressed up in pink, with cute pig ears and snouts to match. Neither of them seem unhappy about what they're wearing, which is pretty surprising. Haknyeon is grinning at the crowd, and Yoojung is posing cutely.

President Ahn is starting his official Games welcome speech. Daniel tunes him out and looks for District 9. The female tribute, Chaeyeon, is wearing some sort of golden tunic and a shawl, both of which are woven out of what looks like cornsilk. She smiles at the crowd, waving demurely. At her side, her district partner alternates between looking bored and angry; Daniel stifles his laughter when he realizes that Jaehwan is dressed up as an ear of corn.

The District 8 tributes are wearing interesting tunics pieced together from various types of fabric. Both are smiling brightly, although Daehwi’s expression wavers a little when he sees himself on the big screen, crossing the line into fear for a split second. Daniel winces and averts his eyes. _They’re both too young for this._

District 7, for once, are not dressed up as trees. They both wear clothing seemingly woven from twigs and leaves; Sejeong is smiling brightly, her eyes crinkling, but there’s a hidden tiredness behind her cheerful expression, betrayed only by the tight grip of her hands on the flowering branch that she holds like a staff. Woojin is smiling shyly as well, waving his own branch; it rustles, showering their chariot with flowers, and his smile widens, revealing a snaggletooth at the corner of his mouth. Daniel has to tear his eyes away from the screen again. _He’s going to die,_ he reminds himself. _And he’s not your Woojin._

When Daniel focuses in on District 6, he sees that they’re wearing sleek silver jumpsuits that blur a bit whenever they move. _Hmm,_ he thinks. _Smart way to represent transportation._ Chungha looks beautiful and fierce, her smile almost predatory, but he doesn’t think it’s anything more than a facade— her eyes dart from side to side, leaving her looking somewhat uncomfortable. Hyungseob, meanwhile, seems to be having the time of his life. Daniel squints at the screen in disbelief. _Is he dancing? Here?_ At least the audience seems to love him. _Smart boy._

The tributes from District 5 are dressed as power plant workers. The male tribute, Jinyoung, barely even lifts his head; the female tribute, Hyeri, just looks terrified. They’re completely forgettable, and he feels pity for them.

Then the cameras are on him and Nayoung. She looks beautiful, but in a cruel way, her lips pulled in a slight smirk, eyes narrowed in just the right way, arms crossed. Daniel, on the other hand— well, he looks a lot more innocent at first, but he can see through his own shirt on camera, and when he smirks, the muted roar of the crowd gets a little louder. The fabric of their clothing is rippling under the lights like a calm sea. It’s quite mesmerizing.

He looks across the City Circle at some of the chariots closer to theirs, privately enjoying how a lot of tributes are watching the District 4 chariot in awe. District 3’s outfits are jumpsuits studded with blinking lights in various colors; Mina looks timid, but Sungwoon caters to the crowd, smiling and waving, and gets loud screams of his name in return. _Hweseung was right about him being popular with sponsors,_ Daniel thinks.

He’s about to look for the next chariot when he becomes aware of eyes on him and turns slightly. They’ve caught the eyes of the District 1 tributes, who are dressed in fancy silver formal wear, large jewels sparkling on their wrists and ankles. Jieqiong is staring at Nayoung, her gaze so intense that it freaks Daniel out a little bit. Nayoung seems to be aware of the other girl’s attention, shifting slightly in discomfort. The boy, Jihoon, is eyeing Daniel with interest; when their eyes meet, the weight of the other boy’s stare seems to sear straight through Daniel, sending a shiver running down his spine, and he looks away—right at the District 2 chariot.

Ong Seongwoo is already looking at him. Daniel swallows hard and steadily meets his gaze. The roar of the crowd and the boom of President Ahn’s voice as he gives his closing remarks seems to dull to a low thrum as they watch each other. It’s as though there’s nothing else he can see, no one around them—just the two of them, looking at each other hungrily, as though they’ve been separated for years without even a glimpse at each other.

Distantly, something within Daniel registers that that’s most definitely the case, if his dreams are anything to go by. But most of him is caught up in the heat of Seongwoo’s gaze, the longing that he himself feels, the sudden pounding of his heart in his chest. Time feels sluggish, and he feels for all the world as if he is floundering, drowning in it, trying to climb up a cascade of sand in an hourglass, trying to swim in slow motion through a sea of the passing seconds. For an awful moment Daniel thinks he might faint.

Suddenly, as if given a signal, Seongwoo visibly smirks at him, then breaks their eye contact and turns to his district partner. Daniel’s heart drops at that arrogant expression, and he swears he can taste his own disappointment.

_Just another Career. Nothing different._

Nayoung grips his shoulder, eyes asking a question, and all Daniel can do is grit his teeth and nod at her as reassuringly as possible. She raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but turns back to face the crowd; he breathes in and out, trying to keep calm despite the racing of his heart, and settles down to observe the situation.

Both tributes are dressed in sleek black and gold versions of Peacekeeper armor, reflecting District 2’s training of Panem’s police force; they carry thin black staffs that are twined with threads of gold. As the cameras focus on them, they tense and raise their staffs, drawing interested murmurs from the crowd; before they can lose the Capitol’s attention, they start to spar.

Everyone watches, enraptured, as Doyeon prods her staff at Seongwoo’s torso; he twists to one side, somehow staying balanced, and jabs at her neck. She ducks, swinging her staff to meet his; they strain against each other for a few moments, the wood of their staffs making a loud scratching noise. The crowd roars their names.

Seongwoo pulls back; he sweeps his staff forward, and she brings her staff up to block his again, but this time there’s a mighty _CRACK!_ and Doyeon’s staff snaps in half. The crowd’s screams only seem to grow as the two shake hands; Doyeon throws the wooden pieces into the crowd, and they both smile and wave to the cameras.

The cameras cut to the District 1 tributes next to give them their allotted time, and Daniel swears Seongwoo’s eyes flicker towards him again, but this time he’s the one to look away, something horribly like longing burning a hole in the pit of his stomach. Now the lights are too bright, the eyes on him too many, the shouts of the crowd too loud.

_Seongwoo is untouchable. Unreachable. Unsafe._

The actions of the District 2 tributes tonight were so well calculated. They’re in this to win it. They clearly have their plans all made, and there’s no way he’s going to be part of them— _god,_ _for some reason I feel betrayed. Why do I feel betrayed?_

He can’t think like that. He doesn’t have the right. Just because he has a stupid dream or two doesn’t mean that Seongwoo feels the same thing. He probably doesn’t even remember, and if he did remember, why would he care?

 _Those dreams are so different from this,_ he thinks, mustering a blank smile for the cameras as the chariots are paraded one final time around the City Circle. _We would at least die together in those dreams, but here I won’t even be able to reach him._

* * *

Dinner is a somewhat boisterous affair. The atmosphere is light, probably because District 4 made a pretty good showing this year with their outfits. Jonghyun seems to have regained some of his spirit, and is now sitting with his arm around Nayoung, laughing and joking around with Yongjin and Hweseung. Kaeun and Kahi are discussing the night’s standouts. Daniel shrinks into himself and focuses on eating his steak. He’s too tired to think right now.

“All the Career districts really made a huge splash this year!” exclaims Kaeun. “District 2 had that fight of theirs, which of course was very interesting. And the District 1 boy winked at the end, which the crowd really seemed to like. You two looked fierce and hot throughout the entire parade. Definitely unforgettable!”

“That’s right,” Hweseung pipes in. “We have sponsors lined up for miles! Amazing outfits, and you pulled them off so well!” He beams at Daniel. “They really liked your confidence, and they can’t wait to sponsor strong District 4 Careers again!”

Daniel smiles weakly, quickly excuses himself, and takes the elevator up to the twelfth floor. He doesn’t look back, but he’s sure everyone’s eyes linger on him as he leaves the room.

He’s just gone up the staircase and is turning to open the right door of the domed room when suddenly it swings open and two rather short people come tumbling through it. They’re laughing and holding hands, but when they realize that there’s someone in front of them, they quickly jump apart.

“Oh,” one of them says quietly, voice unmistakably male. Daniel is squinting down to make out his face when suddenly the light in the small room flickers on, and he’s looking down at the male tribute from District 3 and the female tribute from District 6. They both visibly relax when they see Daniel’s face. _Probably worried that I’d report them or something,_ Daniel realizes.

“Hi,” he says awkwardly, noting the way Sungwoon grabs for Chungha’s hand again; she doesn’t resist. They smile at each other, then up at him. “I’m, uh… Kang Daniel. District 4.”

“Ha Sungwoon, District 3,” says Sungwoon, nodding at him. Daniel groans internally because so far this guy seems like the human embodiment of sunshine, and it’s pretty strange.

“Kim Chungha, District 6,” Chungha murmurs hesitantly, squeezing Sungwoon’s hand. He grins at her, and she returns his smile with more confidence than before.

“Well, uh… see you guys around?” Daniel squeaks out, scratching his head sheepishly. _They’re sickeningly sweet together,_ he thinks. _How did they get to know each other so fast?_ They wave at him and run off, and he goes through the right door.

There’s a garden on this side of the roof. The air is heavy with the scent of many types of flowers; short potted trees sway in the evening breeze, the hundreds of wind chimes hung upon them tinkling with every movement. Daniel finds a bench near a flower bed, sits down, and closes his eyes.

Watching Sungwoon and Chungha has left him even more hopeless than before. He tries his best to keep the gloom from overtaking him, but soon all he can think about is the joy in their eyes, the way their hands were clasped, despite that feeling of impending doom they surely felt. _I_ _can't even have that much,_ he thinks.  _There's really no escape._

He must doze off or something, because at some point he starts to dream. He’s in a different world than his last dream…

_One chance was all he was going to get from Zeus._

_He had one chance to pull his lover from the paradise of the gods. It seemed like such a stupid thing to do, to pull someone you loved away from endless luxury, but Daniel knew Seongwoo wouldn’t want that. He wouldn’t have wanted to be tied to this eternal splendor, unknowing of his own past, his own identity, unable to remember anyone… unable to remember Daniel._

_So Daniel led him by the hand and resolved not to look back. He’d been lucky to get this chance, anyways. He wasn’t going to be Orpheus, and Seongwoo wasn’t going to be Eurydice._

_It was so difficult, not looking back. He felt Seongwoo’s life force ebbing under his fingertips. A demigod trying to lead another demigod out of godhood and back into the mortal world—he was taking away Seongwoo’s immortality, his chance at an oblivious, perfect life on Olympus._

Seongwoo would not have wanted that anyways, _he reminded himself again._

_Maybe he should have known before he took Zeus’s offer. Maybe he should have known that Zeus would never let someone who he felt had wronged him in the past escape. Maybe he should have let Seongwoo live his life out in pristine lack of awareness._

_Maybe he should have saved himself the heartbreak. Maybe he should have just saved Seongwoo._

_They were so close to the exit from the prison of paradise when curiosity bubbled up within Daniel—awful, awful curiosity, the same horrible quality that led Pandora to let all the horrors out of the_ pithos _and into the mortal world. For one weak and terrible moment, he couldn't control his fear and his paranoia and his_ curiosity _, and he looked back._

_Seongwoo was the one who suffered for it._

_Zeus’s lightning was immediate. It struck Seongwoo down just as he regained his mortality, leaving nothing behind but a thin silver bracelet that was already melting in Daniel’s hand. The force of the divine lightning seared Daniel’s arms and left him momentarily blinded but he lunged forward, crying out, because all he could think about was—_

“Daniel?”

Someone is sitting next to him on the bench, holding his hand. Daniel gropes blindly for their hand with his free one and finds his fingers stroking over a thin metal bracelet. The longing that burns in his gut seems to die out for a second. His eyes shoot open.

“You said my name,” says Seongwoo, breathless.

The other boy’s face breaks into an odd smile, one so full of pain Daniel almost believes it to be a grimace. For a moment they’re both speechless, just holding onto each other tightly, as though letting go would cause them both to splinter and fall apart.

“You said my name.” They don’t let go, and yet they’re still splintering.

But they don’t break. Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY GOT THIS OUT. I was having some real trouble with this chapter. Thank you for being patient and sticking with me here.  
> I'm going camping for a few days, so the next update probably won't be very fast either :(  
> Don't hesitate to comment or to go to my links in the chapter notes- I want to interact with y'all! :)  
> ✿  
> [tumblr here](https://luxsideris.tumblr.com)  
> 


	5. decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of training is... interesting, to say the least.  
> (Daniel meets people and makes a choice.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> decision: a determination arrived at after consideration

Daniel wakes up the next morning in Seongwoo’s bed.

For a moment he wonders exactly where he is, raising his head blearily to take in the black and gold staff propped up against the opposite wall, the closet that lies slightly open with black shirts hung upon the doorknob, the light that filters in through half-closed blinds—

The warmth pressed into his side shifts a little; the leg Seongwoo has slung over his body falls away. Daniel moves back and looks down at him, eyes soft. Now that he’s so close to Seongwoo, the other boy seems so _small_ , a bit shorter than Daniel, with limbs so slender that Daniel thinks he could snap them in half. He had been sleeping draped over Daniel, but now in his absence sleeps curled in on himself.

In short, Seongwoo looks _vulnerable_ , and it scares Daniel more than any dream he’s had so far.

 _Speaking of dreams…_ Daniel blinks and tries to recall what happened in last night’s dream. Then it hits him.

_I didn’t dream at all when Seongwoo was next to me._

Seongwoo’s left hand reaches up and grasps at Daniel’s, and he starts, half-expecting the other to wake up. He doesn’t— another moment, and Seongwoo’s hand drops from his wrist, falling back into the soft gray sheets. The silver bracelet gleams on his wrist in the morning light.

Daniel would love to sit there and watch Seongwoo until he wakes up, but he has to get ready for training. He swings his legs out of Seongwoo’s bed, pauses, looks back, and hesitates for only a second before leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to the other boy’s forehead. Then he heads for the door, doing his best to ignore the way his heart clenches as he steps away.

He’s just shut the door behind him and turned towards the elevator when a voice calls out for him to stop and his blood runs cold. Daniel turns slowly and is met by a red-haired male looking at him warily. His face is so _familiar,_ although Daniel can’t quite figure out why…

“District 4?” says the man under his breath, stepping closer. He peers at Daniel, the suspicion on his face giving way to open curiosity. Daniel resists the urge to shrink away from his inquiring gaze. “Hmm. Didn’t know our Ong was the type for one-night stands.”

Daniel flushes. “It’s not like that—” he attempts to explain.

The man scoffs. “What is it then? Romance? Star-crossed love?” When Daniel doesn’t respond, he makes a noise of disbelief.

“Who _are_ you?” Daniel asks, reflexively taking a step back. _Are we in trouble?_ is what he really wants to ask, but he thinks that might be too direct.

The man smiles then, but it’s a bitter smile, just like his words and his tone. His eyes are bright, but everything else about him screams _pain._

“Victor of the 96th Hunger Games, Im Youngmin. District 2.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Daniel knows why Youngmin seemed so familiar. He’s famous in the Capitol, where he lives for a few months each year, sold to the highest bidder every other night. Lots of Capitol people love him. In more ways than one.

Does that explain why Youngmin might be so bitter? _Maybe. But it still doesn’t fully add up._

“I would hope that you two know what you’re getting yourselves into, getting lovey-dovey right before the Games start,” the victor continues, voice stern and eyes disapproving. “These are the Hunger Games. You might want to stop playing around. Or not, because you’re all about to die anyways.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. A chill goes down Daniel’s spine. Youngmin’s eyes go dull as he regards Daniel with wretched amusement.“You’re not going to listen to me anyways, are you?”

Daniel keeps silent, lowering his head; Youngmin sighs heavily and begins to walk towards Seongwoo’s door. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Kang,” he mutters. Unnerved, Daniel sets off for his own floor.

* * *

Youngmin’s words echo in Daniel’s brain all throughout breakfast, throbbing like pain whenever Nayoung and Jonghyun smile at each other. He’s so caught up in his own misery that he doesn’t even notice that everyone can see how out of it he is, or that they’re shooting each other alarmed looks over mouthfuls of bacon and eggs.

Meeting Youngmin was like a splash of icy cold water, shaking him out of that unrealistic daze, waking him from his happy stupor. _There’s no way this will end well,_ Daniel thinks. It’s not like he didn’t know that— it’s just that he’d never allowed himself to think about it. Now he _is_ thinking about it, and it’s not pretty. Suddenly he thinks he might burst into tears, so he stands up to go back to his room.

“Ah, Daniel… Yongjin’s just left an outfit for you to wear to training,” calls Jonghyun after him. “It, uh, should be on the dresser?” Some part of Daniel registers the worry in his mentor’s voice, but he’s mostly too numb to notice, nodding mechanically and leaving the room without a backwards glance.

He goes back to his room and shuts the door behind him, then turns to examine the clothing Yongjin has picked out. There’s a green and black top and black pants, both made of thin, stretchy, breathable material. Daniel changes into the outfit and sits down on the edge of his bed, biting nervously at his fingers.

Has he ever slept this well before? Without those dreams and without waking up with an odd sense of loss, an inexplicable feeling of emptiness? He doesn’t think so.

_Of all the places that I could have found Seongwoo… why did it have to be here?_

A knock on his door. Daniel sighs and gets up to answer it. He pulls the door open and looks up and there’s Jonghyun, alone, looking right at him. Daniel unconsciously takes a step back.

He marvels at how put-together Jonghyun looks, no longer nervously tugging at his bandages or fidgeting anymore. “Hey, Daniel,” his mentor says softly. “So why weren’t you in your room last night?”

He stills, heart thumping. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.

Jonghyun sighs. “You’re not in trouble,” he quickly amends. “Just… it’d be better to know.”

“I…” Daniel begins, then trails off, unconsciously beginning to bite at his fingers again. _How am I supposed to explain this?_

“Okay, well, you weren’t in your room last night,” Jonghyun sighs. “Na— uh, I passed by your room last night and the door was open, and then I checked the roof and you weren’t there.” He shoots Daniel an exasperated look. “This was around midnight. I won’t judge you. Just talk.”

Pinned by that knowing gaze, that commanding tone, Daniel does just that. “I was in someone else’s room last night,” he says a little too loudly, a little too defensively. “I—”

“I already knew that much,” Jonghyun says, almost wryly. “It’s not like you were sleeping in the elevator or something. Who, though?” At Daniel’s alarmed expression, he adds, “No, they won’t get in trouble either, if that’s what you’re so concerned about.”

Daniel slumps. Faced by this confident, straightforward version of Jonghyun, he really can’t get out of telling him everything. “District 2,” he mutters. When Jonghyun raises an eyebrow expectantly, he adds, “Ong Seongwoo.”

Jonghyun’s other eyebrow goes up as well.

It’s silent for a moment. Jonghyun is clearly still trying to put the pieces together. “One-time thing, or…?” he says, expression unreadable now.

“It wasn’t like that,” Daniel mumbles. “At all. It isn’t—”

He breaks off. Can he really explain this whole thing without sounding completely crazy? _Not really._

“Okay,” Jonghyun says slowly. “So you didn’t… sleep with him, but you slept over. I’m not judging you,” he quickly adds, as Daniel blushes bright red and opens his mouth to cut in. “I’m in no position to do that.

“Uh, anyways, so it’s a Career district. The Capitol doesn’t mind Career districts getting friendly early. They, uh, encourage it, even.”

Jonghyun’s face darkens, and he starts to fidget again. Groping blindly for a way to change the subject, Daniel says hastily, “I kind of… got caught?”

His mentor’s eyes go wide, attention fully on him again. “What? By who?”

Daniel has scarcely uttered the name “Im Youngmin” when Jonghyun heaves out a huge sigh. “And Youngmin was bitter,” he guesses, taking a deep breath. “Do you remember his Games?” Daniel shakes his head, and Jonghyun sighs, fingers reaching to tug at his bandages again.

“He was in a relationship with his district partner. They started right before the Games began, so it wasn’t like they volunteered knowing it would happen, either.” Daniel holds his breath. He has a feeling he really won’t like what Jonghyun says next.

He’s right.

“They were in the final 2. He bashed her head open with a rock. Daniel… he was devastated, of course.”

Daniel’s mentor looks directly into his eyes, the intensity of his gaze startling the latter a little. “He’s not wrong, you know,” he says quietly. He takes a deep breath before continuing, never breaking eye contact. Daniel swallows hard. “It’s not a good idea. But that doesn’t stop it from happening, Daniel. Will it stop you? I don’t think so. It’s up to you. Entirely up to you, and it would be both extremely hypocritical and overly optimistic of me to believe that I should have any influence over your decision.”

Daniel’s mouth is dry. His hands are shaking. His head is spinning. He feels strangely detached from his surroundings, and yet Jonghyun’s words right before walking away ring loudly in his ears: “Choose wisely, Daniel.”

* * *

It isn’t until he’s already in the training room with all of the other tributes that Daniel makes his decision.

Seongwoo is looking at Daniel and Daniel is trying not to look at Seongwoo and Nayoung is watching him avoid Seongwoo’s gaze and— _god, this is too much._ He would love to tune out Head Trainer Yumi’s words right now and run over, sweep Seongwoo off his feet, kiss his hurt expression away, run reverent fingers over the constellation on his cheek.

But that exactly what he’s decided he can’t do, so he restrains himself.

 _Would kissing him last night have made it easier to put this all behind me today?_ Daniel thinks. For a second, he wishes he’d done it, wishes he’d just closed the gap between them and kissed Seongwoo last night instead of just holding his hand the whole time. _Then maybe you could stop thinking about him now, sweep it all behind you and move on—_

Deep down, though, he already knows the answer, and that’s no. Kissing Seongwoo last night would only have made it harder to let go, would only have made it harder to leave in the morning, would only have made it harder to make his decision now. Daniel pushes Seongwoo from his mind, forcing himself to leave behind that rare feeling of warmth and safety and happiness, and focuses on what Yumi is saying.

“...survival skills. They matter just as much as weapon skills do, if not more. Exposure to the elements can kill you more quickly and more painfully than a knife.”

Seongwoo’s eyes are still on him. Daniel’s heart jumps a little, but he continues to pretend the other boy doesn’t exist, ignoring the fact that doing so hurts him like physical pain.

“...and may the odds be ever in your favor!”

The tributes disperse quickly. Daniel glances around and sees Taehyun and Sungwoon rushing off to the knives station, Chungha and Sejeong talking as they go through edible plants, Sewoon smiling at Jaehwan as the latter gesticulates wildly with a paintbrush, Sohye timidly approaching Woojin at the throwing axe station—before he can really observe anything else, a hand pats him solidly on the back and he whirls around.

It’s Park Jihoon, District 1. “District 4?” he says mildly, offering Daniel a practiced smile. _He looks so innocent._ Daniel scrambles to reply.

“Is this… the Career alliance?” His voice dies a little when he sees the three tributes standing behind Jihoon. Doyeon is whispering something to Seongwoo; Jieqiong somehow has already gotten hold of a knife and is spinning it idly in her hand.

All three of them are staring directly at him.

“You?” says Jieqiong, looking skeptical. Doyeon nods in agreement, shooting Daniel an icy look. Seongwoo isn’t looking at him anymore and Daniel, uncomfortable, looks around for support.

“He looks like he’d do fine,” says Jihoon quietly. “Taller than all of us and a lot more muscular, too.” He regards Daniel with open curiosity; Daniel feels as though Jihoon’s eyes are searing through him again, just like they were during the chariot parade. “Have you ever trained for the Games?”

When Daniel shakes his head, Doyeon sighs loudly. “Shouldn’t he at least prove himself first?” she asks, eyes fixed on Jihoon.

Nayoung speaks up then, and Daniel almost jumps, having forgotten that she was even standing next to him. “Do you really want to go ask a non-Career district if they’d be willing to join us? I saw Taehyun of District 12 gesturing rudely at you earlier when you tried to talk to him, Doyeon. Good luck with that.”

Jieqiong laughs a bit loudly. “Well, that’s settled! I guess we’re taking him, then?” Nayoung’s eyes dart to her; Daniel feels lost. Hadn’t Jieqiong been critical of adding him just a minute ago?

Doyeon’s eyes flicker between Jieqiong and Nayoung with suspicion, but she nods anyways. “Yeah,” she says slowly, frowning at the other two girls. “Yeah, that would be best, I guess.”

So Daniel becomes a Career. Not that he really had much say in the matter, but it’s not like he’d have done anything else anyways.

_Right?_

* * *

Daniel hangs out at the stations he’s more familiar with. At one point he’s joined at the knot-tying station by Jaehwan and Sewoon of Districts 9 and 11, who have apparently gotten to know each other quite well in less than an hour. They’re friendly, talking a little bit about their home districts; Daniel learns that they both love to sing, Jaehwan in the District 9 grain fields and Sewoon under the District 11 fruit trees.

He’s doing quite well for himself at the knot-tying station, quickly impressing Trainer Youjin and learning some more advanced knots for different snares. Everyone living in District 4 knows how to tie knots and weave nets, so Daniel picks it all up pretty quickly.

It occurs to him as he’s putting the finishing touch on an advanced trap that Seongwoo hasn’t approached him yet. He can’t stop himself from looking for the District 2 tribute, craning his neck to scan the room when suddenly he sees Seongwoo, holding a large sword, whirling upon a dummy and cutting its head off cleanly in a matter of seconds. His eyes meet Daniel’s from across the room, just for a split second, and Daniel ducks his head, almost dropping a metal piece on his foot, mentally cursing himself.

 _Cut it out,_ he thinks. _Cut_ him _out._ But he can’t.

He moves to the knives station, smiling politely at Chungha and Sungwoon, who are checking out close-combat knives and discreetly making conversation at the same time. Taehyun is examining a strange club-like knife and sniggering to himself as he watches them flirt with each other. When Daniel approaches to check out a throwing knife, the District 12 boy’s expression instantly morphs into a scowl.

Daniel doesn’t know why, but just the idea that he makes Taehyun angry by existing scares him a little. He pushes the feeling back and asks, “Hey, what’s that supposed to be?”

Taehyun’s expression darkens further, if that was even possible, but his voice is deceptively light and easy when he responds, “A torpedo knife. Throwing.” He turns towards the nearest human-shaped target and lets the knife in his hand fly; the javelin-like blade tumbles end-over-end through the air before ripping into the target’s head with a loud THWACK!

Daniel watches Trainer Yehyun replace the target, trying not to think about the fact that it might very well be him in a few days. Taehyun turns back to the basket of torpedo knives, expression neutral now, but says nothing to Daniel. The District 4 boy sighs, accepting that this is the most he’ll get out of Taehyun for now, and turns to check out the long knives at the opposite end of the station.

“Are you with them?”

The question startles Daniel. He turns back to Taehyun, who’s watching him closely now, eyes narrowed. “What?” he asks. “Who?”

“The _Careers_.”

There’s so much disdain in his voice. It makes Daniel strangely anxious. “I—the Careers—yes,” he answers, fumbling with the words.

Taehyun scoffs a little. “You’re with them. But you’re not one of them, are you?”

Daniel opens his mouth to speak, but for the second time that day, no words come out. The other boy plows on: “You’re out here talking to everyone from lower districts. You seem to know about lovesick idiot and his girl over there, since you’re not surprised by”—Taehyun gestures to Sungwoon, who is standing very, very close to Chungha—“that, and I have no idea how you got to know that, seeing as it’s only been a day, but you do.” Taehyun steps closer. “You’re strange, Four. Really not like them.”

“So why do you still hate me?”

The words tumble from Daniel’s lips before he can stop them. Taehyun stops, squints at him, seizes a torpedo knife. Turns back to the new target. Throws. Straight through the target’s chest. Daniel pushes back his fear. _Why are you scared, anyways?_

“I don’t know,” Taehyun says, without turning around. “Maybe I don’t hate you. I don’t know. What I do know, though, is that finally, _finally…_ ” He breathes in and out noisily, head turning back to face Daniel, pain visible in his eyes. “Finally a Career knows what it feels like to be one of us. To be one from the lower districts. To… to not have a choice or even a _chance_ before you’re sent to a brutal death.”

He huffs out a bitter laugh, and Daniel is suddenly reminded very much of Youngmin, standing in the corridor, hand poised before Seongwoo’s door, glaring at him and telling him the harshest truth he’s ever received. _Something similarly scarring has happened to Taehyun, hasn’t it?_

“Yeah, I’m taking this all out on you, aren’t I?” Taehyun’s eyes are less angry now, his tone less aggressive. Instead, he looks sad, hopeless, staring straight through Daniel now. His voice shakes when he continues: “Now you know. Now your district might understand.”

Daniel doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to console a boy who seems like he understands too much and yet doesn’t make an attempt to understand at all. Sungwoon stands alone at the end of the table with a long knife in his hand, eyes sad and all too knowing as Taehyun practically throws the torpedo knife he’s holding back into the basket and stalks off, leaving Daniel gaping after him.

* * *

He can’t focus on any of the weapons right now. Not after that. Having nodded apologetically at Sungwoon and moved to the camouflage station, Daniel is now attempting to paint his arm into a tree trunk. He’s not exactly the greatest artist.

“You’re not using a dark enough brown,” says a new voice. Daniel looks up. It’s the girl from District 7. “Too light. Add some dark brown and it’ll look a bit better.”

He does, and the abomination on his arm starts looking less like a bad smear of makeup and more like a tree trunk. “Thanks,” he says cautiously. He shakes her outstretched hand with his non-painted one. “Kang Daniel, District 4.”

“Kim Sejeong, District 7,” she says in reply. They make light conversation as they paint, talking about some of the other tributes they’ve interacted with. She speaks fondly of Choi Yoojung and Kim Sohye, Districts 10 and 12, as well as Yoo Yeonjung of District 11—“a little prickly,” she says fondly, “but smart and sweet.”

She talks about her district partner Park Woojin too, dotes on him a little before Daniel starts to tell her stories about little Lee Woojin. They even share a laugh about Sungwoon and Chungha, who have moved on to the knot-tying station (with Taehyun at their side as a moody third wheel). _We’d definitely have been friends if she was from District 4,_ Daniel thinks.

Halfway into both of them trying to imitate a riverbank and failing miserably, Sejeong nudges him. “Hey,” she whispers. “Hey, don’t look now, but the boy from District 2 is looking at you.”

Daniel nods slowly, hand shaking a little and smearing tan pigment on the table. “Which station is he at?”

“Throwing knives,” she whispers back. “He just, uh, threw a knife through a target’s heart. Without taking his eyes off you.”

Daniel cracks a weak smile, which fades quickly. Sejeong shoots him a concerned glance and would probably press the subject, but the head trainer calls them all to lunch and they nod at each other before rushing to wash the paint off their arms.

Lunch comes and goes without incident. Daniel sits with the rest of the Careers and watches mutely as they all act rowdy in a clear attempt to intimidate their competition. Nayoung isn’t any louder than he is, just uncomfortably picking at her food and moving Jieqiong’s hand off of her knee every few minutes. Seongwoo is loud and touchy—although Daniel is beginning to think that might just be how he is—so when he casually slings an arm over Daniel’s shoulder while telling some funny story about something he did while he was really hungry, Jihoon raises an eyebrow, but other than that no one seems to think much of it, just listening and laughing in all the right places.

Daniel takes a quick look around, ignoring the heat of Seongwoo’s body as he leans in closer. Sejeong and Chungha are at the largest table with a whole group of younger girls; Taehyun and Sungwoon are watching them from a nearby table and laughing at each other every once in a while. Jaehwan is telling another dramatic story and Sewoon is listening fondly, still with that same sappy look on his face. Woojin is trying to talk to Hyungseob but Hyungseob is looking adoringly at their table— _is he looking at Seongwoo?_ Daniel almost feels a little bit possessive until he realizes that he doesn’t have the right and quickly looks away, cheeks burning in shame.

Jinyoung, sitting with Daehwi and Somi, is peeking at their table too, sneaking shy glances at Jieqiong whenever she starts speaking. Daniel takes a quick look at the rest of their table to see if anyone else has noticed what he has and finds Jihoon’s eyes on Jinyoung, the District 1 boy seemingly… smiling?

His eyes meet Daniel’s and the smile drops from his face like it was never there, leaving Daniel to wonder whether his eyes had just played a trick on him.

* * *

He goes to the fire-starting station after lunch. Sohye of District 12 is teaching Woojin and Hyungseob how to start a fire. Hyungseob does it pretty quickly; it takes Woojin a while, but when he finally gets the fire going, his snaggletooth shows in his smile and Daniel smiles unconsciously too.

Suddenly Hyungseob turns around. “Hi, Four!” he says brightly. “Hi, are you and Seongwoo fucking?”

Woojin and Daniel simultaneously choke. “Hyungseob, I don’t think that’s something you just _ask,_ ” Woojin cries, horrified. Hyungseob pouts. Daniel is too busy sputtering in disbelief to give him an immediate answer. Sohye just looks very, very confused.

“He’s been looking at you a lot,” Hyungseob sighs. He blows out his fire delicately, spraying some of the ashes in Woojin’s face. “Isn’t he good-looking, Woojin?”

“Who?” mutters Woojin under his breath. Daniel observes the situation with growing fascination. “Seongwoo? Haven’t you said that three times since lunch ended?”

“Both of them,” sighs Hyungseob dreamily. He grabs Woojin by the hand, merrily waves goodbye to Daniel, and skips off, dragging Woojin with him and leaving poor Sohye to run after them. Daniel realizes that he didn’t even get to say no to Hyungseob’s question, but there’s nothing he can do about it now, so he turns back to his fire with a heavy sigh.

He moves on to the edible plants station a little later. Somi and Daehwi join him, although they don’t pay him much attention, instead playing around with the flowers at the station. Daniel is examining a strange purplish leaf when someone laughs loudly near him, and he looks up.

Jihoon, Haknyeon, Daehwi, and Jinyoung are now tucking inedible flowers behind each other’s ears. Jinyoung, previously so gloomy, is finally smiling; Jihoon beams back. Daniel’s mouth falls open. Haknyeon sees him staring and the corner of the other boy’s mouth quirks before they both awkwardly nod and look away.

 _So Jihoon is friends with non-Careers now,_ Daniel thinks disbelievingly, accidentally crushing the leaf between his fingers. (At least it’s not poisonous.) He frowns. _Why is that so weird? I’m friends with non-Careers too._

It doesn’t hit him until Sungwoon joins the party by tucking weird weeds behind his own ear and Jihoon giggles along with Daehwi that _it’s because of how he perceives Jihoon._

Jihoon seems like the model Career, the attractive, cold, intimidating, _calculated_ type that can also kill viciously. He’s like that, so is Nayoung—and yet both of them have shown sides to themselves that are so different from that image. Maybe that’s why it’s so shocking to see Nayoung so in love, to see Jihoon acting his age.

That means that Jihoon isn’t really a cold person. Just a really, really good actor. It means that he knows what exactly what he’s doing in front of the cameras.

 _I’ve got to watch him even more closely,_ Daniel thinks. He tries to ignore how closely Seongwoo is still watching him, because if he thinks about the disappointed look on the other boy’s face he knows he’ll just feel even worse.

* * *

“So what did you do in training, Daniel?”

 _I avoided Seongwoo,_ Daniel almost says. “All of the survival stations. No weapons today,” he says instead. Kahi raises an eyebrow. “I’m, uh, saving those for tomorrow.” He doesn’t mention how his conversation with Taehyun made him feel sick enough to avoid the weapons for the rest of the day.

“You likely won’t need too much from the survival stations, if you’re part of the Career alliance,” Jonghyun says quietly. “Which you both are, right?” Daniel and Nayoung both nod.

After dinner Kahi pulls out her notebook again. “Why don’t we add to this?” she muses, already flipping to District 12. “One by one. Let’s start with… Kim Sohye, 15. Is she as weak as she seemed at her reaping?”

They go on and on through the Districts. Daniel starts falling asleep in his chair somewhere around District 6, so it’s a shock when he hears Nayoung say, “He seemed to be very interested in Daniel.”

Suddenly he’s wide awake, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “What?” he asks, a little too loudly. Hweseung snorts at him and says “District 2” and Daniel doesn’t know how to react, just blinks and shrugs when Kahi looks at him curiously.

He can feel Jonghyun’s eyes burning into him, practically taking him apart, but he just looks down and picks at his fruit tart. _It doesn’t matter. I’ve already given up on Seongwoo._

They talk about Jieqiong and Jihoon. Nayoung complains about Jieqiong’s obsession with her. Daniel tries to explain what he thinks about Jihoon, but he isn’t sounding nearly as observant as he’d like to, tired as he is. Kahi still writes some of his thoughts down, nodding slowly as she takes it all in. Then she looks up at the two of them.

“Sleep,” she orders.

Daniel does just that. There will be no roof visits tonight, no pining after Seongwoo, no crying out his name into the Capitol evening. Tonight Daniel won’t talk about home with Seongwoo, won’t run his fingers carefully over the silver bracelet on Seongwoo’s wrist, won’t gaze at Seongwoo’s lips and wonder how it would feel to kiss them.

No, all of that is buried in the past, stowed away in a hazy memory of yesterday, a wonder drug that he had discovered and voluntarily left behind. None of that. Instead, he lets himself sink into dreams darker and murkier than he’s ever imagined—dreams to which he knows the way out, but he grounds himself in them somehow, lets them happen, because their destiny seems to be to love and to lose, and if he can stop himself from loving, maybe, maybe, _maybe_ he’ll lose a little less. He can only hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DANIEL WYD???? you're being wise but... /ANGST  
> ✿  
> sorry for not writing their rooftop scene... I figured it was better this way, but apologies anyways. (lol this basically became "hey they didn't do anything except cuddle after that rooftop thing, what a letdown")  
> not sure how to feel about this chapter- a bit disjointed??? eh. if you find any mistakes or are confused, please tell me.  
> ✿  
> [tumblr here](https://luxsideris.tumblr.com)  
> thank you for all your support <3


	6. distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel stops running away. Seongwoo is waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> distance: the degree or amount of separation between two points, lines, surfaces, or objects  
> Remember this dream from Chapter 1?  
>  _Tonight he’s sitting in a broken-down house, clutching a familiar stranger, blinking back the tears that blur his view of the gruesome bite mark on his own arm. His head hurts. The other boy is crying, tears wetting his shoulder. “Don’t cry, it’s going to be okay,” Daniel mumbles, voice hoarse, ears ringing. “Don’t cry, S-”_  
>  Well, you'll be getting the extended version in this chapter.

_It had been down to the two of them for a little while._

_When the first person fell, when they lost their first team member, when eleven became ten, Daniel felt empty, cried for hours, slept badly for days, thought about him forever. By the time ten became three and then became two, he had long lost whatever he hadn’t poured from his soul already, had nothing left to feel—emotions sealed away, watertight, even as he drowned in an endless ocean of blood and tears. He was numb, unfeeling, accepting each and every death that followed as it came._

_His only remaining companion wasn’t much different—although maybe he’d always been stronger than Daniel, seeing as he had been the one to teach the younger members how to handle their weapons, the one to take the longest watches during the night, the one to get the group moving again after each death. His face was always stoic, his smile weak from disuse where it had previously bloomed on his face. Daniel didn’t think the older boy had gone more than five minutes without his long knife gripped tightly in his hand—he held it even when he slept._

_They were stopping in yet another run-down house for the night. Daniel started the customary check, machete held at his side, shining his flashlight through the door as he slowly pulled it open; when he saw nothing ahead of him, he stepped inside, noting (with only mild interest) as his flashlight swept over the back door that it was open, hanging off its hinges._

_Behind him, the other boy was already moving in as well, flashlight in one hand and knife in the other, taking a careful step over the threshold. He shone his flashlight upon the door, tensed, and stopped. “Daniel,” he hissed._

_Daniel had just slid the beam of his flashlight to his left, over cracked tile and splatters of bright red paint—_

_Not crimson paint. Blood._

Blood.

_He realized what that meant just as the other boy hissed, “Daniel, the back door shouldn’t be open—”_

_“Shit,” muttered Daniel. He raised his voice. “Quick, get back out, S-”_

_Someone—_ something _slammed into Daniel, cutting off the rest of his sentence and drawing only a strangled yelp from his lips. He fell backwards, swinging his machete blindly; an awful squelching noise, and the undead went limp above him, falling with a plop onto the broken floor. Shaking, Daniel got to his feet, a few drops of putrid blood dripping down his arm. He barely had time to register movement, a struggle, happening to his right, before another walker bore down upon him, rotting arms outstretched._

_Something on the approaching figure was reflecting a band of light from Daniel’s flashlight back into his eyes, but he dodged the zombie easily and without a second thought, bringing it down with a blow to the back of the head. He had just turned back around when his flashlight beam fell across something unmistakable on the fallen body and he stopped right where he stood, frozen, his heart thumping traitorously in his chest._

No, no, it can’t be, _he thought._ No.

_Daniel had to bite back his scream. It wrenched at his gut, shot through his chest, and died somewhere in his throat, because—_

He wakes right then, eyes wide and body arching from the bed, the perfect picture of panic. But he doesn’t make a sound, instead falling silently back to the mattress, shaking like a leaf.

For a few minutes he just lies there, waiting for his heartbeat to settle, trying to control his shaking, and _thinks_. How the hell can he go on like this? For how long? It doesn’t take long for him to come to the realization that _he can’t keep doing this._

He can’t keep acting like Seongwoo isn’t there, not after what he's just dreamed. He can’t keep trying to push Seongwoo away, not when he wakes up in pain because of it. Daniel thinks about Sungwoon and Chungha again, not for the first time, thinks longingly about their light smiles in the training room, their happiness in the face of impending doom.

“I want to be happy,” he says out loud, tired smile unconsciously appearing on his lips. _Before it’s all over._ It hurts too much to think so clearly and logically, so he’s going to go back to being foolishly in love. He wants Seongwoo, he needs Seongwoo, and…

It's then that he realizes what he's been doing wrong for the past day, pure horror hitting him like a knife to the gut. “Oh god,” he hisses, because _how could he be so selfish?_ This entire time he’d cut off Seongwoo because Daniel had been scared of what loving Seongwoo would do to _himself._ Not once had he thought about how Seongwoo might feel—waking up alone, being ignored during training, having his attempts to bridge the gap brushed off at lunch—

Daniel rolls over, shoves his head into a pillow, and screams wordlessly until he has to stop for air. _You’re such an idiot._

Two nights ago, when he had first met Sungwoon and Chungha, he had been pining for Seongwoo, dreaming of him, and then he woke up and it was like Seongwoo had fallen out of the sky and right into his lap. They’d held hands and talked about their home districts and skirted carefully around the question of why Daniel had had Seongwoo’s name on his lips when he’d been dreaming, why they seemed to know each other so well without having ever spoken before—

_And what did you do, you hypocrite? You ignored him the very next day._

Daniel groans. “Such an idiot,” he mutters, punching his pillow.

* * *

He’s an hour early for breakfast, so no one is there, but he serves himself and eats alone anyways. While he chews on a sausage he tries to map out the stations he has to visit today, using a pencil and paper he’s snagged from the silent servant standing in a corner.

 _Knives,_ he writes without hesitation. The trainer for that station, Yehyun, had been pretty helpful in the few minutes he’d been there—maybe he’ll find a weapon he likes. _Spears._  District 4 tends to handle fishing spears, so maybe he can pick up a thing or two quickly. _Swords?_ he writes, then frowns. For some reason that scares him. His mind flashes to Seongwoo then, and he doesn’t stop himself from thinking about the other boy, about the look in his eyes and the way his sword sliced straight through—

“Daniel?”

Hweseung peeks at him from the doorway. “You’re early today,” the escort observes, pulling the door shut behind him and taking a seat opposite Daniel. “That’s good, because I have to talk to you about something. Alone.”

Daniel swallows hard and puts down his pencil. “What’s going on?”

“Jonghyun told me you went to see someone—not last night, but the night before that. Who was it?”

Daniel’s eyes dart from side to side. The servant in the corner has seemingly disappeared. The room is completely empty and eerily quiet (for now).

“You don’t need to worry about anyone listening in,” says Hweseung, the very image of calm. “The door is locked, and I disabled all listening devices on this floor while you were all on the rooftop the night we got here.” Seeing Daniel’s look of astonishment, he adds, “Career districts have rooms with less bugs than outlying Districts, so it was relatively easy. I have my ways.”

He has misjudged Hweseung. Underestimated him greatly. He’d always thought of the escort as smarter than many others in the Capitol, but not to the point of dismantling Capitol surveillance; he’d also never considered that any escort would be rebellious enough to take that risk.

“Was it someone from a Career district?”

Daniel nods slowly, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. “Ong Seongwoo. District 2.”

Hweseung is silent for a moment, eyes narrowing, and Daniel holds his breath in anticipation. Then he speaks, and it’s worse than anything Daniel could have imagined.

“You know about the boy from 3? And the girl from 6?” When Daniel’s mouth falls open, Hweseung’s eyes flutter briefly shut and he sighs heavily. “So you did know about them. Ha Sungwoon and Kim Chungha. Well, they got caught last night in his room. Sungwoon’s mentor Yongbin tried to keep the District 3 escort from doing anything about it, but that particular escort is, well, a Capitol lapdog.”

Daniel feels faint. “So what happened to them?” he asks, even though he really doesn’t want to know.

Hweseung doesn’t answer him immediately. “Daniel, whatever you have with this Seongwoo… you’re lucky that you’re both from districts the Capitol favors.” He just looks at Daniel for a few moments, and Daniel shivers a little, feeling trapped under that knowing gaze. “Very lucky. Make the most of it while you can.”

“What happened to them,” Daniel repeats, voice growing fainter. Hweseung’s eyes go back to the table; he fiddles with a napkin, and Daniel realizes that this is the first time he’s ever seen Hweseung look even the slightest bit uncomfortable. His trepidation only grows.

“The Capitol hates the idea of people from previously rebellious districts getting to know each other,” Hweseung explains. “They can’t really hurt tributes before they’re sent into the arena, so they couldn’t really do too much to either of them, but their escorts now have direct orders to lock them into their rooms after dinner each night.”

Daniel exhales slowly. “That’s… better than what I was thinking,” he mutters.

Hweseung tilts his head with a humorless chuckle. “Is it really? They will never have another moment in private. In less than a week, they will go into the arena. By the end of the Games at least one of them will be dead. Is this really a merciful solution?”

While Daniel sits still and stunned, Hweseung continues. “I know that Jonghyun encouraged you to give up, even though he made it sound like it was all up to you.” Hweseung leans forward. “But here’s the thing. Do you think—no, not even that. Daniel, are you going to win these Games?”

Daniel is frozen again, transported back to that broken-down house with blood dripping from his blade and someone struggling for their life nearby. He doesn’t even try to answer—he is struck dumb by just the thought.

“Ask yourself,” says Hweseung softly. “Could you kill the boy from District 2?” His eyes are duller now, though his expression remains unreadable. When Daniel doesn’t reply, still locked in his own little world, the escort repeats his question. “Could you kill Ong Seongwoo?”

He’s looking down at the body of the walker he’s just brought down. A scream of anguish rings in his ears and the only sensation he’s aware of is _cold—_ like all of his warmth has been leeched away by the very sight of the undead before him, like all of the life in his body has melted onto the cracked tiles to join the bloodstains there. And then he knows.

“I couldn’t,” he whispers. His voice catches and goes hoarse, so he tries again. “No, I couldn’t. I won’t.”

Hweseung nods sadly, like he knew this answer was coming. “Well,” he says. “Well, then.”

Daniel can’t meet his eyes. He drops his gaze and stares at his piece of paper until all the words start to blur together. When Hweseung speaks again, his voice seems to come from very far away.

“So what are you waiting for?”

* * *

Normally a ride on the crystal elevator would be exhilarating, but right now Daniel’s head is spinning, so all he can do is clutch at the handrail as the thing whizzes down two floors.

The doors slide open and he’s about to step out when he looks up and realizes that there are two people standing right in front of him, both looking at him expectantly. One is Youngmin, looking a lot happier to see him than Daniel might have anticipated. The other is a woman with shoulder-length red hair—a victor, although Daniel doesn’t remember her name—who looks like she’s struggling to control her laughter.

“Hi there,” drawls Youngmin. “Do you want to move, or are you going to stand there for another hour?” Daniel scrambles to get out of the elevator, wondering why they’re not acting like he’s out of place on their floor. Especially Youngmin, who had been so bitter yesterday.

“You done breaking hearts, Four?” the woman asks breezily as they step into the elevator. Daniel is sputtering for a reply and Youngmin is positively snorting with laughter when she snaps, “If we have to see Seongwoo like that again, I’m cutting your dick off.”

And with that, she closes the elevator doors, waving in a vaguely threatening way through the crystal and leaving Daniel standing on the District 2 floor, fearing for his life.

 _Yeah, you deserved that_.

He has to get to Seongwoo, has to apologize for everything. _If that’s even possible at this point._ Daniel turns numbly, feeling like he’s not even in control of himself, and knocks softly on Seongwoo’s door.

At first nothing happens. Daniel knocks again, and something thumps against the door; he takes a step back. “Go fuck yourself, Youngmin,” an annoyed voice yells from inside. “You were right about—about _him._ You don’t have to come rub it in my face.” A helpless, bitter laugh floats through the door, and Daniel swallows hard. He’s clearly hurt the other boy so much without even realizing it.

_You’re such an idiot._

“Seongwoo?” he calls.

Silence. Daniel bites nervously at his fingers again and wonders if he should leave when suddenly the door swings open and Seongwoo is standing there, posture slumped, expression resigned, the pillow he must have thrown earlier held loosely in one hand. He doesn’t meet Daniel’s eyes.

“Why don’t you come in,” he mumbles.

* * *

Daniel stands over the same bed he woke up in the day before and wishes he’d never left it. The other boy has just closed the door but is still standing in front of it, not even turning to face him.

The silence is stifling and seems to roll on and on, unbroken. Daniel wants to say something to break it, but for the umpteenth time there is nothing he knows how to say.

“You left,” Seongwoo finally says, voice faint and indistinct, as though he is speaking from the other side of the door. “Without saying anything.” He laughs again, a clear, sharp, _pained_ sound that shoots an arrow through Daniel’s heart and leaves him feeling even more guilty than before.

The silence resumes. It rings like white noise in Daniel’s ears and all he wants to do is say something, but for some reason he can’t even do that much. Instead he stands in the middle of Seongwoo’s room and doesn’t say a word and it’s all he can do not to run away yet again, because he’s _pathetic._

“You’re still not saying anything,” Seongwoo says quietly, haltingly. He turns and Daniel looks up at him, meets his eyes, sees the tears that trail down his cheeks before he even registers the choked noises Seongwoo is making. That numb feeling returns and he doesn’t think he’s fully in control of himself when he moves to stand in front of Seongwoo and struggles to wipe his tears away.

“Don’t cry,” he gasps. The sight of Seongwoo crying seems to have broken a dam in Daniel somewhere and now the words spill thick and fast from his lips. “Seongwoo, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault—”

“Youngmin told me this would happen,” Seongwoo presses on. “He told me to give up on you and I told him to fuck off but wasn’t he right, in the end? You didn’t even give me an explanation. I thought you didn’t care enough. Why are you here?”

“I was scared,” Daniel confesses. It feels good to say this now, to condemn himself. He wraps his arms around Seongwoo and the other boy doesn’t resist, just sags a little, almost in defeat. Giving in. “I was selfish and scared and I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry,” repeats Seongwoo, words muffled. He laughs wetly into Daniel’s ear.

“I know that’s not enough,” Daniel murmurs, arms loosening, moving back a little so that he can see Seongwoo’s face. Even after all of the messing up he’s done, Seongwoo is still looking at him in that hopeful way, and it compels Daniel to bring a hand up and wipe away the rest of his tears. “But I’m not running away this time.”

The silence returns, but it’s less deafening this time. More comfortable.

“Did you run into Youngmin on the way here?” Seongwoo says after a long while, eyes closed.

“Yeah,” says Daniel, and Seongwoo tenses in his arms. “And this woman, the other mentor. I don’t think they really minded me, though.”

“Oh, Heehyun.” Seongwoo’s voice is less shaky now. “What did they say?”

“She kind of… threatened to castrate me,” Daniel mutters. Seongwoo jerks back like he’s been burned, sees that Daniel is dead serious, and starts to laugh. It’s an abrupt turnaround, being able to see the other boy so sad and then laughing so soon after. It’s good. He doesn’t ever want to see Seongwoo cry again, especially not because of him.

“Have you eaten?” Daniel grumbles, trying to change the subject before his thoughts can get any more sappy. When Seongwoo shakes his head, Daniel awkwardly withdraws, patting him on the back. “Go eat,” he urges. “I’ll see you soon enough in training—”

“And you’re not going to ignore me again,” says Seongwoo, firm, all traces of mirth suddenly vanishing from his face.

Daniel smiles helplessly, reaching for Seongwoo’s hand again to squeeze it reassuringly. “Of course not.”

He steps into the hallway and closes the door quietly behind him. _Well, that went better than I expected._

“You’re really stupid, you know,” says a reproachful voice behind him. Daniel turns so fast he’s surprised he doesn’t smack his head on the wall. It’s Doyeon, dressed in black and red, leaning on the closed door to her room and regarding him with something like scorn. “He waited for you last night. Thought you would come to your senses. You didn’t.”

Daniel opens his mouth to defend himself, but there’s nothing he can say, so he closes it again.

“You’re lucky he’s so _gone_ for you already, _”_ Doyeon says, voice laced with hostility. “No one else is going to be cuddly and forgiving of you, especially not in the arena.” She opens her door, lip curling in contempt. “Good luck, _Four.”_ The door slams.

* * *

Daniel is not good with throwing knives.

The knives station trainer, Yehyun, has been very helpful, but Daniel can’t really aim, so he’s gotten nowhere. The same thing happened with the spears station hours ago, when he tried to spear a dummy and instead ripped apart the one right next to it.

“Again, your power is fine, but you just don’t seem to have any aim,” Yehyun sighs. “That’s okay. We can start you on something that doesn’t require range. Do you—”

“Try this,” a familiar voice cuts in. Seongwoo has seemingly materialized next to him, a sheathed blade in one hand.

“A sword?” Daniel mumbles under his breath, confused. He tentatively takes the weapon, realizing with a start that it feels strangely right in his hand, as though it belongs there; when he unsheathes it, he knows exactly what it is before Yehyun can even tell him.

“A machete,” he breathes. The blade is made of mostly black metal, although the lower edge and point are silver; the upper edge of the weapon is serrated. For a single moment he’s back in his dream again—kill after kill flashes before his eyes, walkers that he had taken down with a weapon just like this one, and he’s speechless as he returns Seongwoo’s gaze, sees the recognition there.

“You… you remember this?” Daniel whispers. “How much do you—”

“We can talk about this later,” Seongwoo replies, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Tonight, I promise.” He nods to Yehyun, pats Daniel on the back, and strides away to join Haknyeon at the whips station.

Daniel turns back to Yehyun (who now wears a bemused expression), takes a deep breath, and firmly pushes all thoughts of cryptic dreams out of his mind. “Could you start the fight simulator? The hologram one?”

Soon Daniel is whirling about in the close-combat simulator with the oddly familiar weight of the machete in his hand. He chops down one advancing figure, watches it explode into tiny pinpricks of light, and then he whirls to cut through another, causing it to shatter into thousands of bright shards. There’s someone watching him through the glass wall, another tribute, but he doesn’t stop to see who’s there, instead turning to meet the next silhouette with the serrated edge of his blade.

Suddenly it’s all over, the figures around him disappearing as though they had never been there. Yehyun stands at the door of the simulator, spinning a remote in his hand. “They called you all for lunch, but you were doing great,” he calls, a proud smile visible on his face.

Daniel nods and walks out, thanking him. Seongwoo is on the other side of the training room, waiting at the entrance to the lunchroom. Before Daniel can set the machete down at the knives station, though, he almost runs headlong into Sungwoon, still leaning against the glass, a faraway look in his eyes.

“Hey,” the other boy says feebly, jolted out of his apparent reverie. His lip is split and there’s a nasty swell to his cheek. Daniel winces. “Nice machete work there.”

“Thanks,” Daniel replies, gesturing for the District 3 boy to walk with him. It’s weird to see Sungwoon like this—completely serious and completely alone, although in light of what’s happened to him recently, it’s no surprise. “Uh… listen, I heard about—”

“You heard about that, huh,” Sungwoon sighs. “It’s okay. We’re both going to die anyways.” When he sees how Daniel is staring at him, he shrugs listlessly. “We always were, and we knew it. It’s just a little more pain now, and then it’ll all be over.”

They’ve reached the entrance to the lunchroom now. Seongwoo watches curiously from one side as Sungwoon waves goodbye and heads off towards Taehyun. Daniel would explain to him what’s going on, but he can’t say anything. His throat feels tight, and he doesn’t trust himself to form words right now. Instead, he lets Seongwoo take his hand and tow him over to a new table.

“The Career thing about us sitting together and being really loud is overdone,” Seongwoo insists when Daniel comes to his senses enough to ask why none of them are sitting together today. Sure enough, Jihoon is off with his little group of boys, all of them laughing at something Jinyoung just said. Jieqiong, Doyeon, and Nayoung are sitting together, looking strangely comfortable with each other. Nayoung doesn’t look like she wants to run—it’s quite a new development.

It’s nice to be able to talk to Seongwoo again. _Yesterday was awful,_ he thinks as Seongwoo tells him about how Jieqiong and Nayoung have worked out boundaries and are somehow friends now—although the District 2 boy insists there’s still something wrong there. Daniel doesn’t think twice about it, doesn’t think twice about anything at the moment. He’s too busy pretending that he can be happy, that he and Seongwoo can last forever.

* * *

The rest of the day passes uneventfully. The other Careers urge him to try the obstacle course, and he’s a little surprised at how well he does, although almost all of them are faster and more agile than he is.

While he waits for the other Careers to finish, he takes a look around. The District 11 tributes are excelling at the ropes course, with Jaehwan struggling to follow Sewoon and (for some reason) laughing loudly out of fear; when Daniel lies down and looks straight up, he sees that Sungwoon and Taehyun are already lying facedown in the net at the top of the course, looking bored. The District 7 tributes are at the axe station together; Woojin is throwing small axes with deadly precision, while Sejeong is walking over to the axe station’s holographic simulator with a huge battle-axe in one hand. Chungha is at the fish hooks station, head down, concentrated on her work. Haknyeon is at the knives station; Daniel meets the District 10 boy’s eyes just as he picks up something that looks like a butcher knife, and Haknyeon quickly lets it fall back into the basket, looking down at the ground.

 _Yeah, I don’t believe that whole_ weak _thing, not for a second._

Daniel spends some time at other weapons stations, but he always seems to come back to that machete and the hologram combat simulator. Yehyun steadily cranks up the difficulty, sending simulated attackers out at a higher rate, and yet Daniel always manages to keep up. The flashes of light emitted by each felled figure illuminate his corner of the training room, painting all of the knives with intermittent gold.

Some of the tributes stand by and watch—while taking a break, Daniel spots Jihoon and Jieqiong watching him intently and whispering things to each other- and through it all, Seongwoo always seems to have an eye on him, whether he’s throwing knives or trying to tie a knot. One time they make direct eye contact and smile at each other through the glass until Sungwoon, rigging up some terribly complicated trap next to Seongwoo, rolls his eyes and waves a coil of wire in between the two of them, jolting them out of their happy daze.

It’s too easy to fall into bliss and not climb back out, Daniel realizes. He knows just as well as he did yesterday that _this is not going to work, because this is the Hunger Games._

And yet it is, for now. _It might not end well, but for the time being, it is certainly working,_ he thinks as he sits down to rest and watch Seongwoo try his hand at archery. The arrow flies wide and only hits an outer ring, and Doyeon laughs at him from nearby, but Seongwoo turns with the most brilliant smile on his face and Daniel doesn’t have the heart to ruin the other boy’s mood. Nor does he have the strength today to ruin his own. Not when the discussion they’ll have tonight might do all of that more easily than anything he did yesterday.

He watches Seongwoo smile, and he smiles back, even as destruction looms over him; he sees it coming, and he is not surprised, but that does not mean he is ready for it either.

* * *

Daniel takes the elevator up to the twelfth floor later that night, opening the door that leads to the garden and heading for the bench that he’d fallen asleep on. Seongwoo is already there, expressionless, staring off into the Capitol night; he only comes back to himself when Daniel slides onto the bench to his right and grabs his hand.

“Hey,” the District 2 boy says softly. Daniel mumbles a “hey” back, and then neither of them says anything for a while.

There it is again—that dead silence, spanning the space between them even when their hands are clasped. Daniel hates this. If he’s really giving up, if he’s really only got a few more days to live, he’d like every moment with Seongwoo to be full of joy and life.

“You said we would talk later,” he blurts. “About—about the past. About how much we know.”

Seongwoo sighs heavily. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Just—that night, we didn’t even talk about why you said my name, did we?”

Daniel squeezes his eyes shut, letting his fingers curl around the bracelet. “No,” he whispers. “We didn’t. I—is it weird to say this? That I’ve been dreaming of you?” He takes Seongwoo’s silence as a cue to continue. “I’ve been dreaming of other worlds. I’m not sure, but I think we’ve lived through them together, because you’ve been in all of them. But we’re always dying.”

“Like what?” the other boy rasps, turning to search Daniel’s eyes. “What worlds have you dreamed about?”

Daniel refuses to meet his gaze, instead looking down at the colorful buildings that line the streets far below. “I don’t remember everything. I don’t remember enough. But I remember that there was one with—with gods,” he says hesitantly, eyes flicking up to check for a reaction. Seongwoo leans in a little closer, eyes intense but expression unreadable, as Daniel presses on. “Another with some sort of magic. And most recently there was one with walking corpses—”

He stops talking because now he’s thinking about his dream, about the decomposing body on the floor, and just the thought of it makes him unable to continue. Seongwoo squeezes his hand, brings Daniel back to himself, anchors him firmly in this life and nothing else. When he finally looks up, Seongwoo is so close, and yet his voice seems to sound from a distance, quiet and hesitant.

“Can I kiss you?”

Daniel thinks he might nod, or maybe he manages somehow to say yes, but either way Seongwoo’s lips meet his and he loses himself in the moment, eyes fluttering shut.

It’s such a welcome distraction, kissing Seongwoo. He pulls Daniel in desperately, bringing their bodies flush against each other. The other boy’s lips move against Daniel’s with infinite care, with cautiousness, and yet the two of them fall together so easily, so perfectly, as though they’ve done this a thousand times.

Caught up in the sensation and the heat of Seongwoo’s mouth, Daniel lets him set the pace, lets himself forget about all the destruction that is sure to follow. Things feel so deceptively simple like this—just the two of them in the garden, wrapped up in each other’s arms, kissing each other under the lamplight.

They’re both panting when they finally break apart. Seongwoo lowers his head a little, enough for Daniel not to be able to see his face anymore, and Daniel—he doesn’t know what to think. Doesn’t know if he even can at this point. He feels like the blood in his veins has been replaced by liquid flame.

“Seongwoo,” he breathes, pulling back. “Seongwoo, we—”

“I know,” says the other boy quietly. “You don’t need to tell me. We’re fighting to the death so soon. This isn’t going to work, right?”

“I don’t care.” Daniel’s arms tighten desperately around Seongwoo’s neck, heart beating so fast he thinks it might burst. “Seongwoo—”

“Well, I do care,” says Seongwoo, voice a choked whisper. Daniel stares at him. “But since when has that ever stopped me?”

It’s silent for a mere moment, and already Daniel feels the dread creeping up his spine. It’s an odd feeling, wanting Seongwoo so much and yet being so scared of what he might say next.

“I remember everything,” says Seongwoo. His eyes are closed now. “Every single life, every single world, Daniel, and yet you—you always forget.”

Daniel tries to ask why, tries to apologize, but finds he can’t do either, frozen as he is by the crushing revelation. The other boy presses on. “You were right. We always die. But at least you don’t have to remember.” Seongwoo shakes his head, a helpless laugh escaping his lips. “Right now—I don’t know why you’re dreaming. Usually you just meet me for the first time. But we always find each other and we always die; you always forget and I always remember.”

“Why?” murmurs Daniel, bewildered. “Why do you have to remember?”

Seongwoo shakes his head again, long breath hissing out from between his teeth. “I fucked up,” he finally says. “Long ago, I—” He cuts himself off. “You’ll think badly of me if I tell you. I can’t. I’m sorry.” He ducks away from Daniel’s hold and stands up, and Daniel feels his heart sink.

“Are you leaving?” he asks, and hates how unsure the words sound.

Seongwoo exhales shakily. “Just for tonight,” he promises, looking as shaken as Daniel feels. “Just for tonight. I promise you I’m not running away. I can’t do that. I love you, you know.”

Daniel doesn’t answer, _can’t_ answer. He stands on shaky legs, hugging Seongwoo tightly before letting go. Watching the other boy leave the rooftop, he wonders what it will take for them to be happy—but no matter how much thinking he does, he cannot find an answer.

* * *

Sleep doesn’t come easily. Daniel lies alone in his bed and thinks about Seongwoo and waits for sleep to overtake him, waits for his dreams to resume. His lips still tingle and his arms feel so empty and the tears fill his eyes so suddenly that he can’t even stop them from falling, because the loneliness is so crushing and yet it’s nothing compared to so many past lives of heartbreak and loss.

They love, and they lose, and they continue until it all begins to blend together. They are powerless against the cycle, and it will consume them. Seongwoo has accepted that long ago, but Daniel doesn’t know how to. Instead he closes his eyes in silent agony until he falls into fitful sleep, willing his own nightmares to whisk him away.

_Maybe he came to the realization that he didn’t want to live anymore and let his guard down, wanting it all to be over. Maybe, shocked by the identity of the undead, he simply forgot to pay attention. Either way, he didn’t even lift his eyes from the body on the floor, didn’t see the next one coming at him until it was too late._

_Pain lanced through his body, sharp and unexpected but not entirely unwelcome as its jaw locked over his right arm and its teeth dug deep into his flesh and_ god, _he was too surprised to even cry out, a sound halfway between a gasp and a sigh falling from his lips, the bloody machete falling from his limp hand. The boy fighting a short distance away from him screamed—a sound of pure anguish, of wordless horror, of pent-up agony. He dispatched a final walker with a blow to the head and rushed towards Daniel. But they both knew it was too late._

_The tears began to fall from the other boy’s eyes even before he sank his long knife into the last walker’s head; as soon as he had done so, the knife slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor. He fell to his knees right next to it, eyes trained on the floor, faint sobs emanating from his hunched form._

_At the moment of impact Daniel had felt nothing besides a deathly, painful calm, but now, the other boy’s tears were prickling at his own eyes, washing away the wall he had so carefully built. He listened carefully for more of the undead, but he heard nothing, so he relaxed for the last time and pointed his flashlight back down at the body of the walker he had taken down earlier._

Silver.  _Daniel swallowed hard and leaned in a little closer, willing his tears back. At least, at the end of all this, if his eyes could have deceived him, if he could have just made a mistake—_

_But deep down he knew exactly what he had seen, and sure enough, there it was: a thin silver bracelet, gleaming, strangely undamaged, too dainty and pretty against that decomposing flesh._

_He had finally found his Seongwoo, after he had been the first to be bitten, the first to fall, staggering away into the woods with the horde trailing after him. He’d led the undead away from them, departing with a final wink, a weak smile, and nothing more. In his wake he had left Daniel hollow, reeling, broken. It had taken weeks to put himself together, and now he was shattered all over again with a single glance—_

_Daniel’s head was starting to ache. He stumbled to his companion’s side, checked his body for wounds, and, finding none, threw his arms around the shorter boy, felt the way his only remaining friend was breaking down, crumbling in his arms. The other boy hadn’t cried in front of any of them before, not when Seongwoo was bitten, not when even when Guanlin had been ripped to messy shreds before his eyes, and yet he was crying now, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, body shaking with the force of his sobs._

_“Don’t cry, it’s going to be okay,” Daniel whispered, tears cutting clean tracks into the grime on his own face. “Don’t cry, Sungwoon.”_

_Even as he said it he could feel his vision starting to go fuzzy at the edges, his hands starting to shake slightly. Sungwoon was clinging to him now, tears soaking into Daniel’s ripped jacket. They hadn’t been lovers, hadn’t been brothers, but they both had been the only thing the other had left. “Sungwoon, it’s starting,” he croaked. He felt the smaller boy’s arms stiffen around him. “Before it’s too late… Sungwoon, thank you. So much.”_

_Sungwoon pulled back with difficulty, pushed a woozy Daniel to lie down, picked up his bloody knife. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “God, I’m so sorry...”_

_Half a minute passed before Sungwoon could gather himself enough to raise the knife. Daniel closed his eyes, trying to control his shaking. “Be happy,” he whispered, a plea not just to Sungwoon, to everyone that had been lost, to himself, to_ Seongwoo—

Yes, _he thought, tired smile unconsciously appearing on his lips._ Yes, I’m going to be happy.

_Another minute before Sungwoon could actually make the kill, and then two became one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again feel like this was a disjointed chapter, but. I've been writing it for too long. Had to finish it somewhere. These chapters just get longer and longer... anyways, a big thank you to my friend Alice for reading this over and dealing with my fretting over this chapter  
> I'm about to go to a week-long convention so... the next update won't be soon either, sorry :-/  
> ✿  
> how was that little twist in the zombie AU? anyone see it coming?  
> if you're confused, I'd be happy to explain in the comments below.  
> ✿  
> [tumblr here](https://luxsideris.tumblr.com)  
> I'm on twitter at [@luxsideris!](https://twitter.com/luxsideris)  
> ✿  
>  **THE TRIBUTE LIST NOW CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE GAMES. don't click on it until you have read all available chapters. you have been warned.**  
> [tribute list here](http://listography.com/luxsideris/dolor/tribute_list)


	7. denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training scores are announced. Seongwoo and Daniel pretend everything will be okay. (They're getting pretty good at that.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> denial: refusal to admit the truth or reality of something

It’s the last day of training.

Daniel and Seongwoo lie side by side at the top of the ropes course. It had been Seongwoo’s idea to come up there, and Daniel hadn’t had the heart to refuse, despite being an awful climber. Somehow the other boy’s shining eyes made everything worth it, though, even when Daniel was fumbling with all the nets and ropes and trying not to fall while Seongwoo laughed at him from the ceiling. Below them, tributes scramble to finalize alliances or to master skills, but it feels peaceful up here, all of the noises from the stations muted by the distance.

At lunchtime, only a few hours away, the Gamemakers will start to call the tributes in for score evaluations. These scores are on a scale of one to twelve, with one being the worst and twelve being the best, and will definitely affect sponsor counts. Daniel is nervous, of course, since the only actual training he’s done has been here, right before the actual Games, but he does his best to push it away.

“What will you do for your session?” asks Seongwoo, the net they’re lying upon swinging a little as he props himself up on one arm.

Daniel shrugs, not lifting his face from the net. His arms dangle from two of the larger holes. “What are you going to do?”

“Throw knives, sword fight, climb… there are lots of things I can do. It really depends on how much time they’ll give me.” He eyes Daniel with amusement. “You’re not answering my question.”

“Probably go through the simulator with the machete,” Daniel grunts. “Maybe go through the obstacle course or tie a knot, something like that. I don’t have that much to do.”

“You’ve already done that,” Seongwoo says, voice soft. He tilts his head. “They’ve been watching us for days, and they know you’re not particularly amazing at either of those things.”

“Thanks,” Daniel says, smiling weakly.

“Besides, those aren’t skills they’d want to see out of you. Do something they haven’t seen you do,” Seongwoo continues, other hand reaching out to rest on Daniel’s back. “Your best skill is obviously the machete, so you will have to do that, but do something else too. You’re strong, right.” He doesn’t even pose it as a question, just states it like a fact. “Go to the weightlifting station. Take one of those round weights and—I don’t know, do _something._ Throw it, maybe. They really like Careers and physical strength. That’ll get their attention.”

“What makes you think I could even pick one of those up?” Daniel mumbles, but when Seongwoo levels him with a stern gaze, he sits up and nods slowly. “Sounds like a plan,” he replies.

“I know you don’t like being a Career. I know it doesn’t fit you,” Seongwoo says quietly. “But in the end, it’s what they like to see. You have to become what they want in order to make it far.”

Seongwoo goes back down to get in a final bit of sword fighting, leaving Daniel alone at the top to stew in his own thoughts.

He takes a final look around the training center. Jaehwan and Sewoon are sparring with trainers, both using what seem to be scythes. Hyungseob is attacking a dummy with a knife while Woojin watches to one side. Sejeong and Chungha are conversing by the knot-tying station. Sungwoon and Taehyun are heading towards the hand-to-hand combat station. Haknyeon is sitting in a corner, head lowered. And Jihoon… Jihoon is standing by the sword fighting station, holding a gleaming blade with a wicked curve to it. He’s looking up, directly at Daniel.

A chill goes down Daniel’s spine, and he quickly looks away. _You’re allies,_ he reminds himself. _Allies._ But he can’t shake the uneasy feeling that hangs over his head, even as he slowly descends from the net and walks towards the spears station.

* * *

“Zhou Jieqiong, District 1.”

Jieqiong rises from the lunch table, hands balled into fists at her sides. The Careers give her curt nods as she walks away, then lapse back into uncomfortable silence. Everyone is nervous, even the Careers. Their lives might depend on the sponsorship gained or lost from this training score.

Time seems to pass sluggishly, and yet the minutes slip by, so it doesn’t feel like long before they call the next tribute into the room.

“Park Jihoon, District 1.”

Jihoon doesn’t look at any of them. He just gets up and walks away. The door shuts with a loud _clang_ behind him, and Daniel lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

There are only 4 at the Career table now. The atmosphere is tenser than it’s ever been.

“Kim Doyeon, District 2.”

The door slams. Daniel takes a deep breath, and at his side, Seongwoo turns to look at him.

_Jieqiong throws knives, Doyeon shoots arrows, Nayoung throws spears._

Under the table, Seongwoo squeezes Daniel’s hand.

_Jihoon fights with a scimitar._

“Ong Seongwoo, District 2.”

Daniel smiles in a hopefully reassuring way at Seongwoo as the other boy stands up to go, but he’s pretty sure it just comes out as a grimace. Seongwoo leans down and whispers into his ear, “Remember to throw the weights.” Then he’s gone.

_Seongwoo throws knives and fights with a sword._

Distantly, Daniel registers that it’s a long time since Seongwoo went in for his session, but he’s too busy trying to control his shaking to properly think about anything right now.

_And I..._

“Kang Mina, District 3.”

Mina gets up from where she sits next to Sejeong, looking about as terrified as Daniel feels right now. Sejeong gives her a comforting pat and a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

_What do I do?_

“Ha Sungwoon, District 3.”

Sungwoon gets up from his table, Taehyun patting him on the shoulder. On the other side of the room, Chungha is staring at the ground. At her side, Sejeong is watching Sungwoon warily.

Daniel squeezes his eyes shut.

“Im Nayoung, District 4.”

He opens his eyes just as the door shuts behind Nayoung, the sound quiet but firm. Dread courses through Daniel’s veins. He’s next.

_Remember to throw the weights._

His chariot ride got the Capitol’s attention; this is his chance to make a lasting impression, because the sponsors that might very well keep him alive are looking to see if he has any talent.

And then—

“Kang Daniel, District 4.”

His palms are sweating, so he wipes them on the edge of his shirt and stands up shakily. Everyone is looking at him. Under the weight of their stares, he crosses the room, pulls the door open, and lets it fall shut behind him as he enters the training room for the last time.

* * *

The first thing Daniel sees when he gets inside the room is the knife stuck firmly into the wooden floor, right below the Gamemakers’ balcony. When he looks up, he can see the glint of a weird metal contraption on the top net of the ropes course, where he and Seongwoo had been lying—one of the tributes before Daniel must have created some sort of trap for their session, then.

But he doesn’t have time to think about that right now. All of the Gamemakers’ eyes are on him as he moves towards the knives station and picks up his familiar machete. The remote Yehyun had used to start the combat simulator is nowhere in sight; instead, there is a big red button on the table, marked “SIM” in white lettering.

Daniel hesitates, hand poised over the button, and then goes for it, his grip on the machete’s handle tightening. The holographic figures start to appear all around him as he walks into the simulation space—their spawn rate is a little faster than he’s used to, and their movement patterns suggest a higher difficulty setting, but it’s nothing he can’t handle.

He settles into the rhythm of his slashes and stabs, destroying figure after advancing figure with ease; the bursts of light from each felled attacker illuminate the whole room, getting brighter and brighter as time goes by.

When the simulator suddenly sputters to a stop, Daniel stops, lets his machete clatter to the ground, and tries to catch his breath. Most of the Gamemakers are still watching him, but he can see that a few have turned away, probably due to the repetitive nature of his machete combat. He’s got to do something to get their attention. Something like—

He crosses to the weightlifting station. Before Daniel’s even aware of what he’s doing, his right hand is reaching for one of the large spherical weights, fingers wrapped around its handle.

 _Remember to throw the weights._ But where? Daniel looks around. The nearest station is the knives station. It might not be the best idea to throw the weight in his hand at the glass table. Something else.

The big baskets of weapons at the knives station have been moved into a neat line a little ways away from the main station. In the middle of the line he sees Taehyun’s basket of torpedo throwing knives.

Daniel wonders briefly if the Gamemakers heard his conversation with Taehyun at the knives station—do they know how much the 12 tribute hates the Careers? Maybe he can act into what they want to see.

 _You have to become what they want in order to make it far._ Seongwoo’s words ring in his ears. _Being a Career… it’s what they like to see—_

Abruptly, Daniel moves. He heaves the weight from the rack, a soft grunt escaping his lips.

At first he’s surprised—not because the weight is too heavy, but because it’s a lot lighter than he had expected. Some of the shipments he deals with in the harbor are heavier than this. That doesn’t make it easy to lift, but it’s certainly no huge struggle to turn, take a few steps forward, and hurl the weight at his intended target.

It hits. The weight smashes into the basket of torpedo knives and sends them clattering everywhere, rolling in all directions.

Someone at the Gamemaker table claps, although they are quickly shushed by a colleague.

“Thank you, Kang Daniel. You may go,” says Head Gamemaker Han from the front of the Gamemakers’ table. Daniel, trying to keep his relief from showing on his face, bows to the Gamemakers on the balcony and leaves the training room.

* * *

He’s stopped as soon as he sets foot on the District 4 floor. Hweseung is waiting in front of the elevator and leads him to the dining room, where Kahi, Jonghyun, and Nayoung are sitting at the table. As soon as he sits down, Kahi starts grilling him on what he did for his session.

“I used the machete simulator,” says Daniel blandly, reaching for an apple from the fruit basket in the middle of the table.

“I hope that’s not the _only_ thing you did,” Kahi says, frowning.

Daniel shakes his head. “Of course not. I also threw a weight from the weightlifting station, you know, one of the spherical ones.”

“How heavy?”

“I think it was the second-largest? I don’t know, I’ve never actually been at that station before—”

Hweseung cuts in. “That’s pretty heavy. The Gamemakers were probably pretty impressed. They keep close tabs on what stations tributes visit too, so if that was indeed your first visit, even better.”

Daniel mentally thanks Seongwoo. “Nayoung, what did you do for your session?”

“Threw spears, used spears for close-combat simulation, and ran really fast.” She sits up in her chair. “Did you see the knife in the floor?”

“A knife in the floor?” Jonghyun repeats, looking confused.

“Yeah, when I went in for my session there was a trap someone had built on top of the ropes course, just above the Gamemakers’ balcony. Directly below it was a knife, stuck to the hilt.”

“And it was still there when you both had your sessions?” Kahi asks in disbelief.

Both Daniel and Nayoung nod.

“That’s quite a lethal trap, then,” Kahi mutters. “It must have released the knife straight down from such a height that the Avoxes in charge of cleaning the training room couldn’t tug it out of the floor.”

“Avoxes?” says Daniel blankly.

“Servants of the Capitol,” Nayoung replies softly from the seat next to Daniel. “They’re usually criminals or traitors. The Capitol cuts their tongues out, so they can’t speak.” Daniel shudders.

“Are any of the other Careers good at setting traps?” Jonghyun asks, leaning forward in his chair.

Nayoung shakes her head. “I’ve never seen Jihoon or Doyeon near the knot-tying station, and Jieqiong is awful at trap-making.” She pauses. “He can probably tell you more about Seongwoo’s skill level, though,” she adds, glancing at Daniel meaningfully.

Daniel’s face reddens. “He—he was at the knot-tying station once and he wasn’t bad at it,” he manages to say.

“Like you would even remember how good he was at knot-tying, all you two were doing was making eyes at each other,” Nayoung says playfully.

Hweseung is beaming at him, although Jonghyun’s expression is carefully blank. Kahi is holding back laughter. Daniel’s face reddens even more. “At any rate, he told me what he was going to do for his session, and it didn’t include that,” he mumbles.

“Okay, so out of all the tributes that went before you, only District 3 is left,” Kahi muses. “That’s Ha Sungwoon or Kang Mina. From what you’ve seen, who do you think made that trap?”

“Sungwoon,” Nayoung and Daniel blurt out at the same time.

“There’s no way Mina would have been able to make that trap, not when she always looks too scared to pick up a knife,” Nayoung explains. “Plus, I’ve seen Sungwoon at the knot-tying station, and his work is insanely complicated. It has to be him.”

Kahi nods slowly. “Well, just to make sure, you can ask the other Careers what they did later tonight,” she says calmly.

Daniel jumps a little in his chair, and the whole room turns to look at him. “What do you mean, later tonight?” he asks, silently cursing himself for not knowing anything. “I thought we were getting training scores tonight?”

“Correct,” Jonghyun says, nodding. “But like I told you, the Capitol likes the Career districts and their alliance for what it brings to the Games. They give us certain privileges so that the Career alliance can become a more powerful force when the Games actually start. Those who have trained for the Games know this, but the Capitol encourages Career tributes and their mentors to meet and discuss the training scores as they are revealed, so that we can plan who to target and who to avoid.”

Daniel’s jaw drops. “So we’ll watch the training scores with the District 1 and 2 tributes tonight,” he whispers. Everyone nods.

 _Isn’t that a little unfair to the other districts?_ He thinks he’s beginning to understand Taehyun’s words that day at the knives station.

“You have a couple hours to yourselves,” Kahi announces. “Tonight, when the training scores are announced, all six Career tributes and their mentors will be on our floor. Watch yourself and act carefully in front of your allies.”

* * *

Daniel goes back to his room. Of course he does. What else could he do?

It’s raining. The sky is gray, a sharp contrast to the colorful city below. He sits down on his bed and lets his mind drift away, back to the little house in District 4 that he had been so lucky to call home.

Right about now Jisung would be making dinner, and Jinwoo would just be returning from his job at the largest fish market, the one closest to the center of town—most of the time, he would bring home some fish that they would cook and eat with seaweed bread. Sometimes, when Hayi was feeling particularly generous, she would let Daniel swipe a bar of chocolate from the biweekly shipment to the Capitol. Jisung always had to divide the chocolate evenly so Jinwoo wouldn’t hog all of it—

Daniel realizes that he’s smiling at nothing and stops. _It doesn’t matter,_ he thinks bitterly. _I’m going home to them as a corpse anyways._

Someone knocks on Daniel’s door, and he sits bolt upright. “Who’s there?” he calls.

“It’s me,” says a very familiar voice. Daniel scrambles from the bed and rushes to open the door.

Seongwoo stands in front of him, smile soft, eyes warm. Daniel’s mouth goes dry. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Seongwoo replies, walking past him without waiting to be invited in. Daniel closes the door behind him, feeling a little dazed. “How did your session with the Gamemakers go?”

“Pretty well, I think?” Daniel sits down on his bed, and two seconds barely pass before Seongwoo flings his body onto the bed next to him. “I threw a weight at the basket of torpedo knives. It was a pretty heavy weight, I think—”

“You threw it at Noh Taehyun’s basket of knives,” Seongwoo interrupts. He pauses. “That’s… good. For you, I mean. Maybe the Capitol will see that as a Career move, if they’ve been paying any attention.”

“That’s what I was hoping,” Daniel replies, voice deceptively light. “What about you?”

“I did a lot of different weapons. Sword and throwing knives mostly, but also a spear or two, just to show general proficiency. They eat that stuff up too. I think—hey!”

Daniel is now lying down practically on top of Seongwoo, ignoring the other boy’s muffled protests. “Did anyone try to stop you on the way here?” he asks.

“I ran into your escort, but all he did was wink obnoxiously at me,” Seongwoo mumbles, shoving Daniel onto his side. He wraps his arms around Daniel’s middle and acts like he doesn’t notice the smile growing on Daniel’s face. “What I was _going_ to say before you so rudely squashed me was—”

Daniel rolls over to crush Seongwoo under him again, and the District 2 boy lets out an undignified squawk. “Kang Daniel!”

Daniel is positively snorting with laughter, which only gets louder when Seongwoo can’t get free and starts begging for someone to save him in the most melodramatic voice ever.

It takes quite a long while, but Seongwoo finally manages to wriggle out from under Daniel, pick up one of his pillows, and whack him repeatedly on the shoulder with it. By now Daniel is laughing too hard to fight back, so Seongwoo stops after a little while and settles quietly onto the bed next to him.

They lie together in comfortable silence for a while. Seongwoo’s fingers interlock with Daniel’s as they snuggle in closer to each other.

“I was saying… I think our scores will be good enough to get sponsors,” Seongwoo mumbles. “From what you told me, and from what I’ve been taught about training scores…” He sighs. “We’re going to be just fine, Daniel.”

“Do you really think that?” croaks Daniel against Seongwoo’s shoulder, running his fingers over the bracelet on his wrist.

It is silent again—he waits for an answer, yet it seems like Seongwoo himself is waiting too. For a few minutes the only sound that Daniel can hear is the steady beating of rain against his window.

“Daniel, when we’re in the arena...” Seongwoo finally says, voice a broken whisper. It’s not an answer to the question, but it’s something. Daniel looks into his eyes and waits for the next words to drop, waits for his heart to hit the floor.

But they don’t come. Instead, Seongwoo shakes his head and his words all fall out in a jumble. “I—never mind. All I wanted to say was that I love you, Daniel.”

The smile blooms on Daniel’s face again, effortless. He likes this easy feeling, he likes the thought of everything working out for the two of them, he likes to forget the fact that they’ll be fighting to kill each other in increasingly little time. So he pushes away Seongwoo’s unspoken pain, Youngmin’s unhappy bitterness, and Jonghyun’s unending disapproval when he replies, “I love you too.”

* * *

When Daniel and Seongwoo get to the viewing room, the other Careers are already sitting in a tense line on the couch, waiting for the television to turn on. Their mentors and escorts are nowhere in sight. No one is speaking.

Seongwoo clears his throat. “Are they coming?” he asks, voice a little too loud.

“They are,” Jihoon replies. His eyes flit between Daniel and Seongwoo, as though he’s putting all the pieces together. “They’re in a sponsorship meeting right now. Rules and stuff.”

The tension in the air is thick enough to be cut with a knife. Daniel flops down on the room’s loveseat and motions for Seongwoo to come join him. He knows the other Careers are staring at them, but he doesn’t really care anymore, and he’s sure Seongwoo doesn’t either.

Three seconds after Seongwoo sits down, the mentors come filing in. Jonghyun and Kahi are first, sitting down at a long table near the couches and talking quietly. Youngmin and Heehyun are next; the red-haired mentor raises an eyebrow at Daniel when they meet eyes, but she doesn’t do anything else.

Hweseung enters with the other two escorts, looking tired, although he grins when he sees Daniel and Seongwoo sitting next to each other. Haein comes in last, holding onto the arm of District 1’s most recent victor: Han Jongyeon, victor of the 99th Games.

They don’t have to wait long before the television to turn on. The host of the Hunger Games, BoA, greets Panem with a smile; next to her sits the Games announcer, Leeteuk. They waste a little bit of time on idle conversation.

The other Careers are all silent, sitting stiffly upright in their chairs with blank expressions; next to Daniel, Seongwoo sits unmoving, eyes fixed upon the screen. Daniel starts nervously biting at his own fingers, but it isn’t helping and _so much depends on this score,_ his life might depend on this score—

Time to distract himself. He brings a hand over his face, shields his eyes from the screen, and reaches for Seongwoo’s hand with his free one. The other boy’s hand closes around his, warm, his presence reassuring. [And they wait.](https://i.imgur.com/nDH3r8F.gif)

Finally BoA starts to read the scores. The room is so quiet, the air almost still. No one is moving. No one is speaking.

“Park Jihoon, District 1,” BoA’s voice rings out. “With a score of… eleven.”

The room remains silent for a moment more before Haein and Jongyeon start talking loudly at the same time. No one else speaks.

“Zhou Jieqiong, District 1, with a score of eight.”

Jieqiong sighs quietly. Haein’s voice falls to a murmur. Jongyeon stops speaking.

“Ong Seongwoo, District 2…”

Daniel can’t see the screen through his hand, but he closes his eyes anyways.

“With a score of ten.”

Seongwoo exhales loudly and leans back against Daniel without letting go of his hand. Someone starts clapping, probably Youngmin, but someone else shushes them.

“Kim Doyeon, District 2,” BoA announces. “With a score of nine.”

The clapping resumes, stopping just as BoA reads the District 3 scores. “Ha Sungwoon, District 3, with a score of—”

Everyone starts talking at once. “What?” Jongyeon hisses. “A _Three_ just scored an eight?”

“We can tell you more about that later,” comes Kahi’s voice, as Mina scores a four.

“Kang Daniel, District 4,” BoA says. Daniel tenses, and Seongwoo grips his hand a little tighter. “With a score of… nine.”

His first reaction is to sigh in relief. His second is to remove the hand covering his eyes and glance at Jieqiong, see how she’s taking her score being lower than his. She actually doesn’t look too perturbed, although Jongyeon and Haein are whispering to each other. Hweseung is clapping excitedly, and the District 4 mentors are smiling.

Seongwoo smiles up at him, a little tiredly, but beautifully all the same. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to say anything. Daniel can see the pride in his eyes, and his heart swells with it.

“Im Nayoung, District 4, with a score of… ten.”

Nayoung nods, a small smile appearing on her lips, and turns to face Jonghyun. “Good,” he says, so softly Daniel barely catches it over Jinyoung’s score (a five).

Hyeri gets a three. Hyungseob and Chungha both score sixes. The room is silent until BoA announces that Park Woojin of District 7 has scored a seven, and then all the mentors are talking over one another, filling the room with their disbelief. It only gets louder when Kim Sejeong is revealed to have scored an eight.

“The lower districts are making a stronger showing this year,” Kahi half-shouts over the others as Daehwi of District 8 scores a five. “Or not,” she adds when Somi gets a four. “Either way, everyone, shut up and listen.”

That quiets the room enough for the next scores. Jaehwan and Chaeyeon score a five and a four, respectively. Haknyeon comes with the lowest score so far, a two, which Haein openly scoffs at; Yoojung gets a five. Sewoon scores a seven, which sets off some murmuring in the room, but it’s starting to quiet by the time Yeonjung’s score is announced—a five.

“Noh Taehyun, District 12, with a score of nine.”

 _Nine._ Daniel feels his blood run cold.

The room goes abruptly silent. The mentors are all staring at one another, open-mouthed. No one speaks, not when Sohye’s score is revealed to be a three, not even when Leeteuk concludes the broadcast and the screen goes black. “A nine,” Jonghyun finally mutters. “District 12? A nine?”

Heehyun shakes her head, still speechless.

“Okay,” Kahi finally says. She looks down at her notebook. “Let’s go through some of these scores, then. Shall we—”

“The Three,” Jongyeon immediately interjects. “District 3 male. You said you had something to tell us.”

Nayoung speaks up. “When Daniel and I went in for our sessions, there was a trap built atop the ropes course and a knife buried to the hilt in the floor. None of us built the trap that did that.” The rest of the Careers nod. “So that seems to be how Sungwoon got his score.”

“District 7?” Doyeon is the one to ask now. “Both of them.”

“Kim Sejeong is the sister of District 7’s victor, Kim Taewoo, and is trained in axe combat,” Heehyun answers. “I don’t know anything about Woojin, though. Did any of you watch him during training?”

Daniel swallows hard. _Yes, in fact. I did watch him._ Woojin’s specialty is throwing axes—he rarely missed his mark during training. He should tell his own alliance that, really, but he knows that it would mark Woojin as an even greater threat than his score has already, and he can’t do that without feeling as though he’s condemning little Woojin back in District 4.

No one speaks. Apparently no one except Daniel thought it worthwhile to keep an eye on the fifteen-year-old from District 7. Seongwoo and Nayoung are both looking at him, though, probably waiting for him to say something, but he doesn’t.

“Okay,” Kahi says slowly. Daniel looks at her and finds her eyes trained on him, waiting for him to say something. “If none of you noticed anything, we’ll assume that he is not that much of a threat.”

He almost makes a noise of relief, but instead squeezes Seongwoo’s hand.

“Jung Sewoon?” Jihoon asks, leaning forward in his chair.

“Sickles,” Seongwoo pipes up immediately. “He was really skilled with a sickle. And he’s allies with Jaehwan of District 9, who also uses the sickle. We should try to keep them from getting to that weapon during the bloodbath.”

“And the District 12 male?” Jongyeon growls. “The Twelve that—”

“They have names, Jongyeon,” Youngmin cuts in. His voice is pleasant, but his eyes are icy and Jongyeon immediately shuts up and recoils. Daniel doesn’t think he’s imagining the smile growing on Youngmin’s lips at the sight. “Noh Taehyun,” the District 2 mentor continues. “Tell us about Noh Taehyun.”

“He’s bold,” Doyeon mutters. “Turned down an offer to join us.”

“Rudely,” adds Jieqiong.

“And he’s extremely good with torpedo knives. I haven’t seen him with anything else,” Nayoung says. “I’m sure he’s lethal in close combat too, but that’s his main weapon. We just have to keep him away from them.”

“He’s pretty fast,” Daniel ventures. Everyone’s eyes turn to him, and he shifts a little under their attention. “We—depending on where we stand in the circle, we might not be able to get him.”

“And he’s allied with Sungwoon from 3,” Jihoon adds.

“What?!” Haein and Jongyeon shout.

Doyeon and Jieqiong turn to Jihoon, eyes wide, and Daniel holds back a scoff. Did they really not notice Sungwoon and Taehyun together for the entirety of training?

(Next to him, Seongwoo actually snickers. Luckily no one notices.)

Kahi slams a hand on the table. “Quiet! Let's put together a strategy right now. If you see Sungwoon and Taehyun, eliminate them as soon as possible, but be careful, because Sungwoon is a trapper. Keep in mind that there may be traps nearby.”

“And if you see the other high-scorers, take them out from afar,” Heehyun declares. “None of the others have long-distance weapons.” She looks around. “Is that it?”

Daniel waits for someone to mention Haknyeon and how he's obviously faking weakness, but Kahi tells them that's all for now and sends the other districts off. Haein smiles at Daniel in that eerie, predatory way as she goes through the door, and Jihoon stares at him as he and Jieqiong pass by, but with Seongwoo’s hand warm in his, Daniel doesn’t feel the same chill he used to.

“Seongwoo,” says Youngin placidly, stopping by the door. “I take it we won’t be seeing you until tomorrow morning?”

Seongwoo opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out; Daniel laughs a little and answers for him. “You won’t.”

A small smile forms on Youngmin’s lips at the answer. Daniel does his best to ignore how it twists into a pained grimace seconds later.

* * *

Later that night, with Seongwoo’s lips pressed against his collarbone, Daniel pretends that everything is perfectly fine.

How can he not? He’s finally found his soulmate. The only catch is that he’s going to die within the next week, possibly at the hands of said soulmate.

 _Distance yourself while you can,_ part of him whispers. The rest of him, traitorously, focuses upon the feeling of Seongwoo’s body against his, proclaiming that _everything is going to be just fine. We’re going to be just fine._

He does a fine job of acting like he believes that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW THAT TOOK SO LONG! thank you for being so patient and understanding! real life has been overwhelming—I moved to a new house + I play a sport and its season started in the summer, so it's taken me a lot of time to get this chapter together. plus i've just not really had inspiration :/ but I hope you liked this chapter! I was happy to write some cute scenes, even though the Games start in two chapters (probably) :D  
> ✿  
> I just put together a playlist for this fic! The link is below. And please, do talk to me using one of the social media platforms linked below. I don't bite! :) I'd love to answer any questions you have about the UMIS universe!  
> ✿  
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> [fic playlist here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLYbW26M8OAfGbpEVR4TjZyIKxY5M0NPwd)


	8. discomfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel prepares for the interviews and has some very deep conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> discomfort: mental or physical uneasiness

Daniel wakes up alone.

He doesn’t realize it at first, relieved as he is by his dreamless slumber, but when he reaches groggily across the bed to pull Seongwoo closer he’s only met with empty sheets and a rapidly cooling pillow.

_Oh._

He closes his eyes, lets the doubt begin to fill his mind. Maybe it was too much to expect Seongwoo to stay the night. After all, he hadn’t done the same, and the District 2 tributes probably had their own matters to attend to, before the interviews the next night. No, he shouldn’t expect—

“Are you awake?”

The voice is quiet but warm, coming from a corner of the room. Daniel’s eyes snap open and he sits up so fast he almost hits his head against the headboard.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Seongwoo murmurs, rising silently from his seat in front of the window. “What?” he adds upon seeing Daniel’s shocked expression. “Did you think I had left you or something?”

Daniel’s brief silence is answer enough. Seongwoo leans in.

“Have a little more faith in me, Kang Daniel,” he whispers. “Like it or not, I’m never leaving you.”

His smile is sudden, blinding even in the shadow of the room. Daniel smiles back and closes the gap between them, holds onto everything that they have been and everything they are, because he can’t think about everything they will not be.

They spend some time lying in bed, talking quietly about the friends they had left behind in their home districts. Seongwoo only leaves Daniel’s room when Jonghyun pounds on the door and shouts that Youngmin wants Seongwoo to “stop fucking around and go downstairs.” It’s already a miracle that they’ve had this morning to themselves, considering that they both need to be coached for the interviews soon.

“I’ll see you tonight on the roof,” Seongwoo promises as he leaves.

* * *

When Daniel finally does go to the dining hall, only Jonghyun and Kahi are there, the latter scribbling away in that notebook of hers.

“Interviews!” she half-shouts at him. “The interviews are tomorrow. I don’t think this will be too difficult. What do you want to be?”

“What do you mean,” Daniel says slowly.

Kahi puts down her pen and throws up her hands. “An angle. Something to play up. A personality to attract sponsors. Who do you want them to think you are?”

“You don’t have to be yourself,” Jonghyun interjects. He leans forward in his chair. “You just have to be something they want to see. Something—someone they would remember.”

“Can I just be nice?” asks Daniel quickly.

Kahi snorts. “That’s not very Career-like, but I don’t know if you could pull off anything else.”

She’s right, of course. Attempts to make Daniel seem intimidating don’t go very well, mostly because Daniel ends up saying something awkwardly and shattering the image immediately. He tries briefly to be arrogant, but as Jonghyun puts it, Daniel “doesn’t have an arrogant bone in his body.” Silent and sullen doesn’t work either because Daniel always starts laughing for no reason.

“It really does seem like the only angle for you is… nice,” says Jonghyun, almost in awe, after Kahi grills Daniel with a particularly probing question about training and all he can do is laugh awkwardly and wordlessly. “Just be yourself, then. I guess.”

So Daniel does just that. He pulls it off quite well, keeping the tone lighthearted and the conversation moving. When Kahi asks him about his family, he talks about his parents and how he owes everything to Jisung and Jinwoo; he even includes a word or two for Woojin without cracking.The fake interview is going smoothly until Kahi straightens her back, looks Daniel dead in the eye, and says, in her best BoA voice: “A guy so handsome has to have someone at home waiting for him, right?”

Daniel freezes up.

Emotionally charged questions about his past and his family, he could take. But this?

He feels dazed, even though he should expect questions like this, especially with the image he hopes to cultivate for himself, especially with the Capitol’s close scrutiny of the Career tributes and their relationships.

_How does anything even begin to describe my relationship with Seongwoo?_

“Okay, Daniel, don’t do that,” Jonghyun’s voice cuts in sharply. “This relationship of yours, if you handle it well, will gain you a lot of sponsors. Staring into space is not handling it well. You have a lot of ways to play this, and each way influences the persona you’ll build, so choose carefully.

“You can hint, be mysterious about it and leave them wanting more. ‘You’ll see for yourself in the arena,’ for instance. You can shut it down completely. ‘No, I don’t have anyone at home, no one is waiting for me that way.’ From there you can either imply that if you win you’ll find someone from the Capitol, or straight-out say that your focus is on winning these Games.” Jonghyun pauses. “Or you can tell them the truth—without being overly eager to share it, of course, but you seem pretty good at amping up the drama or keeping things low-key, depending on the situation, so I trust you’d do that just fine. Think about it, and—”

“That last one is probably the best approach,” Kahi interrupts. “For your nice, easygoing image. It fits well with that. Plus, we have to keep in mind that Seongwoo’s interview is before yours, and he’s a pretty good-looking guy who doesn’t seem like he’d go with the whole intimidating concept. He’ll be asked about this for sure, and your answer will have to change with his, so all that mysterious stuff wouldn’t work in the slightest.”

Daniel nods, somewhat numbly. _Yes, there’s no way Seongwoo would completely dodge the question._ Besides, some of the other approaches Jonghyun had detailed sounded pretty difficult to execute.

Jonghyun slips out to go down to the District 2 floor and talk to Youngmin, leaving Kahi and Daniel sitting silently at the table.

Kahi speaks first. “I know you know something about Park Woojin. What is it?”

She doesn’t ask why he didn’t tell the other Careers what he knows, Daniel notes. “He’s good with throwing axes.”

“How good?”

Under her piercing gaze, Daniel squirms a little. “You’re going to tell the other Careers about this, aren’t you?” he fires back. “In that case, why didn’t you say anything about Hak—”

“I won’t,” she says hastily. “I don’t go out of my way to contact other Career mentors. If I wanted them to know, I would have directly asked you last night. And about Haknyeon… well, if they didn’t notice his obvious faking, they’re stupid and probably deserve to die.”

Daniel cracks a smile at that one. “Woojin is really good. He throws with a solid amount of power, and he never misses, at least from what I’ve seen.”

Kahi nods slowly. “Do you want Nayoung to know this?” she asks as she flips to Woojin’s page in the notebook and starts to write Daniel’s words down.

“Yeah.” Daniel doesn’t hesitate. After spending some time with Nayoung, he’s found that he really does trust her. More than he does some of the other Careers, anyways.

It’s at that moment that Jonghyun returns, as expressionless as he was when he left. “Youngmin and Seongwoo are just going to tell it mostly like it is,” he announces. “Youngmin will use it to drum up sponsorship for the both of you, and Seongwoo will probably use it as an emotional point in his interview.”

“So we have a pseudo-alliance with District 2 now,” Kahi sighs.

“Just with Youngmin and Seongwoo, and maybe Heehyun,” Jonghyun corrects. “Doyeon is close with Seongwoo, but somehow seems even closer to Jihoon and Jieqiong than that. Youngmin doesn’t think too much of her. All of his hopes are placed in Seongwoo at this point.”

“Which is good for us,” Kahi says slowly.

“Which is good for Daniel,” Jonghyun replies, offering a placid smile. It does little to soothe Daniel’s sudden worry.

 _This conversation was a good reminder of the fact that Jonghyun’s loyalties ultimately lie with Nayoung,_ he realizes. _Not with District 4 as a whole. Just with Nayoung._

Wow, he’s an idiot. They’re a couple, so why did he even expect anything else from his mentor?

* * *

With Daniel’s interview angle figured out, his other training session for the day is with Hweseung. They go to Daniel’s room as soon as lunch is over. The first thing Hweseung does is to ask, “What’s your angle? Nice boy?”

“What else?” Daniel responds, and they both laugh.

“Well, I don’t have much to tell you, then.” Hweseung shrugs. “Your angle is just to be yourself. I can’t do anything with that. Just be natural.” He leans back in his chair. “So that’s over with. Why don’t we talk?”

“About what?”

“You,” replies Hweseung, eyes twinkling. “Let’s put it this way. Your interviewer will certainly ask you about certain topics. I’d imagine Kahi has asked you about these topics, but Kahi is an extremely intimidating person, and BoA will be exactly the opposite during your interview. I’m sure I seem a lot friendlier and easier to answer than Kahi, however. So let’s start with this. You really turned some heads with your interview outfit. What did you think of it?”

 _Be yourself,_ Daniel thinks as they go through question after question. He tries to answer as honestly as he possibly can, through questions about home and love, about what he thinks of the other trainees, about the Career alliance—up until Hweseung asks him about his chances in these Games, and then he has to lie and say he’s going to fight as hard as he can, even though he already knows that he’s going to die.

Hweseung knows it’s a lie, too, because of that one conversation they had in the dining room with the door locked. The escort carefully avoids looking at him as he answers the question.

“You know,” he says when Daniel finishes, voice oddly quiet. “Being an escort is a very high honor. People want to be escorts for the Games, especially for Career districts. They want a good look at this process that entertains them so much. I came into this profession for the high salary. But every year I leave the Capitol feeling like I’ve lost part of myself. ”

Daniel doesn’t like where this is going.

“This is my fifth year. Last year there was a victor from this district. But what does it matter? After watching seven tributes I had come to know, even to befriend, _die_ brutally—” Hweseung stops abruptly and buries his head in his hands. His next words come out muffled. “And every year there are more.

“At least then I comforted myself with the thought that at least they had volunteered, at least they had some idea of what they were getting themselves into.” Hweseung drops his hands from his face and looks up again, right at Daniel, when he says, “But you didn’t have a choice. And this must be how the escorts from the lower Districts feel—this is how they feel every year. No choice, no fighting chance, no hope to live—perhaps not even the will to.”

 _That’s exactly what Taehyun was saying,_ Daniel thinks.

“I wish I could do more,” mumbles Hweseung. “I wish I could save you all.”

“It’s okay, Hweseung,” says Daniel softly. “You do all that you can for us. Thank you.”

It is silent for another minute before Hweseung rises to leave the room. He pauses in the doorway, turning as though to say something, but clearly thinks better of it and goes out, shutting the door behind him.

Daniel lies back down on his bed and heaves out a huge sigh.

* * *

Later that night, right after dinner, Daniel goes up to the rooftop.

The elevator ride is quiet, just Daniel riding up by himself. Alone, the silence is almost eerie, and he can’t seem to shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen.

He’s just heading towards the left door for the scenic view of the city when he hears it—a slapping noise, and then a yelp of pain. The sound cuts off quickly, almost as though the person who had cried out didn’t want to let it escape.

_Is there a fight happening out there? Is that even allowed?_

A grunt. Something slams heavily against the other side of the door; Daniel carefully takes a step back, not wanting to get caught in whatever scuffle is happening out on the rooftop—

“Say that again,” It’s Jihoon’s voice, a little muffled, but unmistakable. Daniel almost yells out in shock. “Say that again, you piece of—”

“I don’t need to repeat it,” the other person pants. Another male voice. It takes Daniel a few moments to recognize Taehyun; the person’s next words only serve to confirm his suspicions. “You must have heard what I said clearly, since you’ve got your goddamn hands around my throat. I hope you take my words to heart.”

It is quiet then, except for the heavy breathing of the two. Daniel listens closely and waits for another voice, but it seems as though it’s just Taehyun and Jihoon.

“I could throw you over the edge, you know,” Jihoon finally hisses. “No one would punish me. You think you’re so important now, huh? With your stupid nine. I’ll tell you, Twelve, I could throw you off this rooftop. You would come right back up alive, because of that forcefield, but maybe that would—”

Taehyun coughs out a laugh. There’s a scraping sound, probably him struggling a little against Jihoon’s hold, and then he says, “They’ll get tired of you eventually, Park Jihoon.”

Everything is still. Daniel holds his breath.

“I don’t understand you,” Jihoon responds. His voice shakes a little, even though he seems to be trying desperately to keep it steady—a sharp contrast to Taehyun, who is being slammed every which way and yet doesn’t seem to show an ounce of fear. Suddenly Daniel remembers how young Jihoon is.

“The Capitol. The Gamemakers. The Careers. They’re all going to get tired of you. You’re their golden boy now, but the Capitol won’t hesitate to control you, use you as the most powerful piece in their Games.” Taehyun coughs again; it turns into a hoarse chuckle, and Daniel marvels at how he seems almost predatory, looming over Jihoon with just his words alone despite being pinned by the other. “You think you’re so important now, huh? With your stupid eleven. I’ll tell you, _One,_ you might be their ideal victor, but the Gamemakers aren’t going to give you whatever you want. You might come right back out alive, because of your ferocity, but you’re never coming out the same way.”

Daniel's jaw drops. _Did Taehyun really just hurl Jihoon's own words right back at him? Is he not scared at all?_

“I’ll come out a victor,” insists Jihoon, his voice rising, almost frantic. “Just because you’re going to die, Twelve—”

“You’re nothing but empty threats!” Taehyun interrupts. Another slamming sound, and Taehyun grunts in pain, but continues anyways. “Come out in a wooden box, like twenty-two others, or never come out at all. You think it’s so simple, don’t you? Little Career with all the freedom in the world, well-fed, well-dressed, never wanting for anything except some vague idea of glory, who thinks victory and what comes before and after it is easy. You’re wrong.”

Jihoon doesn’t reply, but Daniel hears the sickening sound of his fist colliding with Taehyun’s flesh, and then the door opens and the District 1 boy storms through it. He barely seems to acknowledge that Daniel is standing there, only sparing a withering glance before brushing past him and disappearing down the staircase.

“Kang Daniel?”

He startles out of his daze.

“How much of that did you hear?”

Taehyun is holding the door open, peering through it, the blood on his face just visible in the lamplight. “I don’t know,” he scrambles to answer, walking out into the night air. “All of it?”

The other boy strides over to the edge of the rooftop. The city is alive as always, colors bright and flashing below them.

“What did you say to him that set him off like that?” Daniel prods. He doesn’t know how Taehyun will react to the question, doesn’t know if he’ll even get an answer to it.

“I told him it was okay to be scared,” Taehyun replies, shrugging. “He insisted he wasn’t. I said, and I quote, ‘it’s not good to be a fucking liar at such a young age.’ Not sure he took that too well.”

He turns then, and Daniel sees very clearly the swelling around his left eye, the cut that trickles blood down the right side of his face. “I guess I owe you an explanation of sorts, don’t I? For what I said to you the other day.”

 _No, you don’t._ He doesn’t owe Daniel anything. But Daniel wants to know more about him, so he stays silent and joins him at the rooftop’s edge.

Taehyun plows on. “I live with—I lived with five other boys on the edge of the Seam. My friends. The poorest area of the District.” He pauses. There’s a rare faint smile playing about his lips. “Almost all of us were orphaned at the same time due to a mining accident. I was the oldest, at just thirteen; the youngest was only nine. We were all friends. I couldn’t let them all go to the community home, so we found an abandoned shack and did whatever we could to get food. Even though we were all young, we were doing quite well.”

Daniel is uneasy. If Taehyun is giving the reason behind his bitterness, there’s no way this story is going to end well.

“That was the year of the 96th Games. Two years passed and we got closer, we were basically family. We looked out for one another and we loved each other so much. And then everything went wrong.” Taehyun swallows hard, smile vanishing in an instant. “For the 98th Hunger Games. One of them… one of them was reaped. He was just fourteen.”

Daniel feels strangely numb. He doesn’t even know who Taehyun is talking about, but he can feel the other boy’s anguish in every word.

Taehyun looks out over the Capitol, cheerful and busy as ever, standing witness below them, and closes his eyes. Trepidation takes over Daniel—awful, awful trepidation, and yet he can’t look away from Taehyun, transfixed by the horror of the other boy’s words.

“And that wasn’t the end of it. The next year, another one of us was reaped. He was fifteen.” The other boy’s eyes open, fixed mournfully upon something in the distance that Daniel cannot see. “And my—and another one was reaped for the Quarter Quell, the 100th Games. He made it to the Top 8. And then he was dead, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Daniel murmurs. He doesn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t be,” Taehyun says quietly, expression pained. “You didn’t know them. There was nothing you could do. If anything, I’m sorry for taking everything out on you that day in training. You’re the least Career-like of them all. It wasn’t fair to you.”

 _It was justified,_ Daniel wants to say. Even as Taehyun apologizes for lashing out, Daniel is finally fully understanding of the reason behind it all. _You were right._

“Is everything going okay here?”

It’s Seongwoo’s voice. Daniel whips around to find the District 2 boy walking towards them, the door to the rooftop falling shut behind him. Seongwoo’s eyes widen when they settle upon Taehyun’s injured face.

“It wasn’t me,” Daniel scrambles to clarify.

“Yes, it wasn’t your boy,” Taehyun mutters. His face is an expressionless mask again, his earlier openness all but gone. He brushes past them with a nod and a curt “Good night.”

“Good night,” Daniel calls after him, still in mild shock.

* * *

“What was that all about?” asks Seongwoo later.

They’re in Seongwoo’s room now, after he noticed how much Daniel had been affected by the night’s events.

“Taehyun said some things that Jihoon didn’t want to hear and Jihoon beat him up,” Daniel says flatly. Seongwoo doesn’t seem too surprised, accepting the news with a nod. “Then Taehyun... apologized for snapping at me during training.”

He doesn’t go into any more detail on what happened on the roof. The look on Seongwoo’s face tells that he knows there’s more to the story, but he doesn’t press, so Daniel doesn’t tell, and they move on as though nothing had ever happened.

But when Daniel does try to go to sleep, lying in a warm bed, wrapped up comfortably in Seongwoo’s arms, he can’t stop _thinking._

He thinks about what has happened that day, about his conversations with Hweseung and with Taehyun, about nameless and faceless tributes from District 12 dying as Taehyun watches, and when he’s exhausted those thoughts he moves on to thinking about what will happen tomorrow. The entirety of Panem will be watching as he and Seongwoo put on a show using their own relationship. And then he’ll go to sleep, possibly for the last time ever.

Tomorrow night could be his last night alive, depending on how the bloodbath goes. He feels sick.

“I can practically hear you overthinking everything,” Seongwoo mumbles sleepily, jolting Daniel out of his gloomy thoughts. “It’s going to be okay. Go to sleep, Daniel.”

He can’t help but smile. No matter what has happened in the past, no matter what happens tomorrow, no matter what happens after that, he’s never alone. He’ll always have Seongwoo at his side. Defeat, death, destruction—they’ll face everything together, and that makes him feel just a little more at peace as he drifts off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a slightly shorter chapter. it kinda got out of my control, considering this was originally supposed to cover up to the actual interviews, but then I wanted to shed a little bit more light on some other characters and this happened... lmao. (I wonder who Taehyun's "family" back in District 12 might be? hint: they just debuted)  
> anyways, this isn't my best chapter, choppy and messy and all over the place as it is, but I hope you enjoyed it! come talk to me on social media in the links below, I swear I don't bite  
> ✿  
> [tumblr here](https://luxsideris.tumblr.com)  
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	9. dread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The interviews happen, and the tributes enter the arena.  
> (Seongwoo and Daniel are almost out of time. This is ironic, considering how much time they have yet to suffer, but it is true.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dread: to fear greatly; to feel extreme reluctance to meet or face

Seongwoo’s prep team shows up just before noon, announcing their arrival with loud and scandalized screeching when they realize Seongwoo is not alone in his bed. While they try to get over their shock, Seongwoo turns sleepily to Daniel and plants a long kiss on his lips.

“Your own team will be waiting for you,” he mutters when they pull apart, ignoring the renewed screams of his prep team. “Get up there fast, okay?”

Suppressing his laughter, Daniel bids Seongwoo a quick farewell and slips out to go to his own room.

His prep team is already at his door, whispering anxiously to one another and taking turns knocking at it. “Hi!” he exclaims, as they all turn to look at him curiously. “I was… busy. Sorry about that.”

“Oh, Daniel!” Jung Jung coos, with his signature wide smile. “I was beginning to wonder how deeply a person could sleep! Jungmin was convinced you might be dead.” The woman smiles sheepishly, brushing back jet-black hair from her eyes.

“So what are you going to do to me today?” Daniel asks as he opens his door, allowing his prep team to rush in and set up all of their beauty equipment.

“Not much!” Junwoo chirps. “Your mentor told Yongjin that your interview approach would just be yourself, so we’re going to keep you looking as natural as possible!”

He tugs Daniel towards the shower, pushes a few buttons on the shower panel, and motions for Daniel to go in. By now Daniel isn’t necessarily comfortable undressing in front of these people, but no longer uncomfortable either. He quickly strips and goes in—just the start of a whole day spent getting ready for tonight’s interviews.

It turns out that his prep team seems to have a vastly different idea of “not much” than what he had imagined.

By “not much,” Daniel had assumed that the time spent on his interview styling would be far less than the time spent on his chariot styling. He instead finds that the interview prep takes just as long. There is hair and skincare and light makeup— _so much work just to make me look like myself,_ he thinks.

Yongjin enters around late afternoon, just as the prep team is putting the finishing touches on his look, holding a covered outfit in his hands. “Would you like to see it before you put it on?” he asks as the prep team steps back.

“Nah, surprise me.”

Daniel closes his eyes and lets Yongjin guide him into his outfit. It’s a little heavier than the one he wore for the chariot rides. When he opens his eyes, he sees himself in the mirror and almost gasps aloud.

He is wearing a suit made from the same fabric as his chariot outfit, except this one is darker, deeper, a navy so dark it’s almost black; when the suit catches the light, there’s only a faint ripple through the material, like sunlight just piercing dark water. His eyes are lined with the same navy as his suit—not dramatically, but a subtle, smoky look. All he can think of is the deep sea. Inky, murky, mysterious.

“We thought making you look dangerous would make people interested in you for your deadliness. You would look like a fierce competitor, only thinking of the Games and of victory. But then once you start talking, they actually find you’re a really nice, really charming guy. Total gap between what they expected of you and what your personality actually is! And that will only make them like you even more!” Yongjin throws up his hands, a big smile on his face. “What do you think?”

“It’s amazing,” Daniel replies, smile growing on his face. “Thanks, Yongjin.”

“It was worth it. You look so good! Tonight I’ll be sitting with the other stylists on the main platform, if you’re ever asked a question about your outfit and need to find me.” Yongjin pats Daniel on the back. “Is there anything else you need before you go out there?”

 _Yes,_ Daniel thinks, but shakes his head. There is something else he needs tonight, but not from Yongjin. “No,” he answers.

“Then I’ll see you out there. Good luck, Daniel.”

When Yongjin and the prep team have gone, Daniel looks around his room for his token; when he finally finds it, he slips into his pocket. A final look around his room, a deep breath, and then he departs for the televised interviews.

* * *

The nerves don’t hit Daniel until he’s already standing in the elevator. Not only is he about to speak to the whole of Panem—which is already bad enough in itself—but he and Seongwoo are about to reveal their relationship on live television. And he still has to come off as likable under all that pressure.

His family will be watching back in District 4, too. What will they think of all this? Daniel thinks back to what Jisung had said on Reaping Day.

_“Daniel, sometimes you sound like you’re begging for your life. ‘No, please don’t, help,’ stuff like that. And always something else, like a name, but you always seem to wake up before we can hear you say the whole name. Seong… Seong-something. You keep saying that.”_

How weird this must be to them. If he tried to explain that he and Seongwoo are inexplicably linked to each other, would they even believe him? Would he have believed himself? Not that he’ll ever get the chance to explain it to them, of course. Because he’s not going home alive.

Daniel puts his hand into his pocket and grabs the little wooden cat to try and calm himself. Jonghyun is holding Nayoung’s hand, speaking softly to her, and just the thought that Daniel isn’t the only nervous one makes him feel better.

Now, as Kahi and Jonghyun wave them towards their places backstage, he’s hit by a new thought. Daniel knows for certain that he won’t win—he’ll be dead within the week. All he can do is try to guide someone else to victory before he himself is killed. But what is his ultimate goal, then? Is he supposed to protect Seongwoo at the cost of his own life? Should they keep Nayoung alive, knowing that she would have a future with Jonghyun ahead of her? Will he end up allied with a different tribute after the Careers inevitably split, provided that he somehow lives that far ahead into the Games?

Nor does he know what Seongwoo wants to do. Does Seongwoo want Daniel to win the Games and go home? Does Seongwoo want to win the Games himself? Both of those scenarios would mean that one of them lives out the rest of their life alone. He grudgingly makes a mental note to ask Seongwoo about it later, even though the topic isn’t exactly something he wants to discuss.

The tributes line up in preparation to take the stage. Daniel tries to find Seongwoo but he doesn’t actually get to because they’re moving now, walking out to take their places on the stage, on the City Circle’s  huge displays, on the television screens of Panem.

He is no longer Kang Daniel. For the time being, he is nothing but the District 4 male tribute, perhaps a particularly interesting piece in the Capitol’s Games. If this interview goes well, if he can play up his personality, his _romance_ enough, maybe he will become something more. Maybe he can become an actual person in the hearts and minds of his audience.

It is almost evening now, although the City Circle is still brightly lit. There are people everywhere, filling up the balconies and crammed into the side streets: Gamemakers, camera crews, stylists, mentors, Capitol viewers. It’s a miracle his legs don’t give out before he gets to his chair. On one side of him, Nayoung sits perfectly still; on the other side, Hyeri of District 5 is staring at the floor. Daniel takes a deep breath and tries to resist biting on his fingers.

Not long after, BoA comes onstage wearing her ceremonial interview dress, the midnight blue one that’s studded with little lights meant to mimic stars in the night sky. As she starts to introduce the format of the interviews, Daniel finds Yongjin sitting on the main platform; his stylist meets his eyes and gives him a reassuring smile. The weight in his chest lessens a little.

Each tribute’s interview will last three minutes. When the allotted time is up, a buzzer sounds and the next tribute is called up. Daniel wants the audience to love him so much that they ask for more time, even though it would never be granted. Sponsor gifts are more expensive later in the Games, when they’re arguably more important, so the more hearts he can capture now, the better it will be for him later.

They start with District 1. Jieqiong is first. She looks like an elegant, cold beauty in her silver dress, but the audience is in for quite the surprise, because once she gets onstage she jokes around easily with BoA, her smile sunnier than Daniel’s ever seen it. She’s clearly going for a bright, cheerful angle, and she pulls it off well.

Jihoon goes next. Where Jieqiong was silver, he is gold, clad in a gleaming suit. He’s definitely trying for a mysterious approach, and he does it quite effectively, expertly weaving just the right amount of intrigue into each answer to captivate his audience. Sometimes there’s a flicker of the bright boy from training, but it’s always gone quickly enough to leave the viewers wanting more. Daniel doesn’t realize that he’s hanging onto Jihoon’s every word until the buzzer goes off and cuts off the District 1 boy’s answer about what to expect from him in the Games. “Park Jihoon of District 1!” exclaims BoA as Jihoon goes back to his seat. It takes a very long time for the applause to die down.

 _The golden boy,_ thinks Daniel bitterly.

District 2. When BoA calls Doyeon’s name, she doesn’t immediately get up, but when she does, it’s with an exaggerated look of surprise. The first thing she says when she gets on stage is “I forgot my name for a second there!” The audience roars with laughter.

Doyeon is teasingly playful, not as bright as Jieqiong, but outgoing all the same. The crowd really seems to like the Careers so far. Daniel starts biting nervously at his fingers again, but immediately stops. He just wants this all to be over.

But there’s no chance of that happening, is there? Not when Seongwoo’s name is ringing out in the City Circle and Seongwoo is shaking BoA’s hand and just for a second, a single shining second, he is looking backwards and his eyes meet Daniel’s. Then Seongwoo is smiling out at the crowd, awaiting BoA’s first question, and the moment passes.

Jihoon might be the Capitol’s golden boy, but Seongwoo is their most prized jewel. That much is immediately clear. He answers BoA’s questions easily, speaking with a confidence that screams _classic Career,_ yet he is outgoing, his humor natural.

 _If I wasn’t kissing this guy last night,_ Daniel muses as Seongwoo tells a story about the dangers of Capitol skincare, _I’d be pretty terrified of his ability to draw in sponsors right about now._ Sure enough, even as Seongwoo is talking animatedly about his inability to properly use a face mask and drawing laughs from the audience, some of the other tributes’ faces are darkening. Jihoon is trying to keep a straight face, but his eyes are narrowed. Doyeon just looks resigned. Taehyun’s brow is furrowed. Sungwoon, sitting two seats away from Daniel, shows no emotion at all.

“So, Seongwoo,” starts BoA, and Daniel squeezes his eyes shut, dread coiling in the pit of his stomach. He knows exactly what’s coming. “Seeing anyone back home?”

There it is.

Seongwoo, for the first time, has no quick reply. The crowd begins to murmur; Daniel forces himself to open his eyes and look at one of the large television screens. All of the cameras are focused in on Seongwoo’s face, his downcast eyes. It seems like an age before he finally says anything, voice halting, everything about him screaming hesitance: “Well, I…”

Daniel becomes aware of another tribute’s eyes practically boring a hole into him, but he doesn’t turn his head to check.

“Oh, he’s blushing!” BoA says excitedly, leaning forward. “There must be someone special waiting for you, hmm?” She turns to the audience. “Oh, aren’t you curious?”

The crowd _roars._ Seongwoo raises his head then, smile strangely bashful, and it suddenly hits Daniel. Seongwoo is not actually hesitating, not actually shy—no, he is carefully calculating every single little move, trying to draw out the suspense and feed on the crowd’s curiosity. Waiting for the right time to spring the news, just before his time runs out, so that Daniel can use his own time to tell the story.

“I am seeing someone,” Seongwoo finally answers. Before the crowd can start clamoring again, he continues, “But they’re not… they’re not from back home.”

Instant confusion all around. BoA cocks her head. The crowd is murmuring again. Daniel still feels that other tribute’s attention fixed upon him; this time, he turns his head and meets Sungwoon’s dull gaze. A chill runs down his spine, and he quickly looks away.

The other tributes know what’s coming, the mentors know what’s coming, the Gamemakers know what’s coming, but the Capitol doesn’t have any idea what’s coming. Not until Seongwoo looks backwards, straight at Daniel, and says, “He’s here with me right now.”

The wave of noise that follows is deafening. It almost completely masks the sound of Seongwoo’s buzzer going off. BoA’s been struck speechless, looking between Daniel and Seongwoo with her mouth gaping. The crowd is going wild: some are already in tears, others are clamoring for more time, still more are crying out in shock.

 _Truly,_ Daniel thinks, tamping down his anxiety and smiling back at Seongwoo serenely, _truly, the Capitol loves a good love story._

 

It takes ages for the audience to settle down; when they finally do, Seongwoo is already back in his seat. Kang Mina is now onstage, but no matter how cute she is, the poor girl can’t get anyone’s attention, not when everyone is fixated upon the newest dramatic Games romance.

Sungwoon fares better. He is bright and outgoing, going along well with BoA’s joke about their matching lit-up outfits, but once they start talking seriously, his every word carries so much weight that the audience slowly grows quieter and quieter, finally willing to listen.

“Now, Sungwoon, how about that training score?” BoA chirps. “An eight! One of the highest scores from District 3, at least in recent years… care to elaborate?”

Sungwoon smiles at the cameras, just as he’s been doing for his whole interview, but this smile is a little less warm, a little less friendly. Icier. Daniel looks around apprehensively as Sungwoon starts giving the standard excuse for why he can’t tell. No one is paying attention. Half of the tributes are staring at Daniel himself. Jihoon and Seongwoo are eyeing each other uneasily. Chungha is staring at the floor. Only Taehyun seems to be paying visible attention to Sungwoon’s interview.

“My most powerful trait is my determination,” Sungwoon is saying, head held high, words ringing out across the City Circle. The crowd, for the first time since Seongwoo’s confession, is completely silent. “I’ve worked hard all my life. I’m not someone who will just give up.”

The buzzer goes off, bringing thunderous applause with it. Daniel feels his blood run cold. It takes him a moment to understand exactly why.

Seongwoo’s ability to captivate the Capitol was plain to see. All of the tributes are watching him, marking him as a threat for both his training score and his sympathetic story. The boy from District 3 has his own way with words—while perhaps not as overt as Seongwoo’s charm, it is there all the same. Although his training score might not be as high as Seongwoo’s ten or even Daniel’s nine, an eight from a district that usually scores low is already a great achievement… a potentially lethal one.

_There’s really no one that thinks of Sungwoon as a threat?_

Sungwoon will survive the bloodbath. He will have sponsors, and no matter what happens, those sponsors will definitely make sure that he is armed and dangerous. Daniel is sure of it. He reminds himself to tell Seongwoo about this.

Nayoung is currently answering all questions with the typical confident, arrogant Career attitude. Strangely enough, she’s the only Career to take that approach this year, and so the audience isn’t tired of it at all. Very smart. “I’m going to kill everyone who stands in my path,” she promises just as her buzzer goes off, and even though Daniel’s heard her recite those very words before, he can’t help but shiver a little in response.

Was he nervous before? Why was he nervous? Right now, right before Daniel goes up for his interview, he isn’t nervous at all. Instead, as his name is called, as he rises to shake BoA’s hand and face the excitement of his audience, all he feels is an unsettling calm.

“So, Daniel! We’ve been waiting for our chance to speak with you, after what Ong Seongwoo said earlier… isn’t that right?” She says the last part towards the audience, and they start cheering again. Considering that Daniel hasn’t even said a single word yet, that’s pretty promising. “But we’ll save the juicy details for the end. Why don’t we start with something unique about you? You’re one of the first tributes from District 4 that didn’t volunteer. How do you feel about being here?”

“I’m glad for the opportunity,” Daniel manages, glad when it doesn’t come out sounding completely fake. “It really is amazing here! The Capitol is a beautiful place.” _A beautiful place that wants me dead for entertainment purposes,_ he thinks as the crowd coos appreciatively.

“And what about that training score?” BoA smiles encouragingly. “A nine, as a non-volunteer Career tribute! What can you tell us?”

“Oh!” He’d been expecting this question. “Yes. I can’t give you exact details. I might smile a lot, but I’m more dangerous than I look!” Someone in the crowd starts screaming wildly at that one.

The interview progresses in a fairly standard way. He answers a couple more questions about District 4 and about himself fairly easily and naturally, but when he hears the words “tell us about your friends from the Reaping” leave BoA’s lips, he suddenly feels exhausted. He’s already going to use his relationship with Seongwoo for sponsorship, so why does he have to bring Jisung and Jinwoo into this?

With no choice but to answer, he says the most truthful thing that he can. “Jisung and Jinwoo took me from the orphanage where I grew up. They were the only people who ever made sure that I felt loved, and even though we didn’t have much, they made me truly happy.” Here he deliberately pauses to collect himself, allowing the audience to shout words of sympathy. “Without them, I’d never have known what a family was. I’m going to make them proud.”

BoA nods approvingly, letting the crowd’s sighs swell for a few seconds before she continues: “I’m sure you will.” Then she leans forward. “Your time is almost up, so let’s get to what everyone’s been wanting to hear.” Her smile is gentle, her tone casual, but Daniel, bracing himself, knows the question soon to follow will be anything but.

“How do you feel about Ong Seongwoo of District 2?”

He looks down at the floor, knowing all of the cameras are zooming in on him right now. If the audience perceives him as modest, not too eager to tell, this will go even better. And they do—calling out, waiting for his answer, encouraging him. The crowd falls abruptly silent when he raises his head, turns to face Seongwoo, and answers with as much sincerity as he can.

“We met just a few days ago,” says Daniel quietly, trying to properly convey the depth of his feelings. There is so much pain in the other boy’s eyes, built up from lifetime after hopeless lifetime. Around them the lights seem to dim, the crowd seems to disappear; this is no longer a staged interview. “But I feel like I’ve known him for years.

“He makes me so happy,” Daniel continues, fighting through the emotions that threaten to keep him from speaking. “Even though I know that at any moment he could be taken away from me…”

He doesn’t need to continue. Not that he even could, because now there’s a lump in his throat and he knows that any words he might try to speak would come out all shaky. Everyone is sobbing now. BoA takes out a tissue and dabs daintily at her eyes. At some point the buzzer goes off, but the sound is lost in the Capitol’s outpouring of grief.

 _Can they ever understand?_ he wonders. _Can they realize what kind of Games they make us play?_

Daniel rises to return to his seat and Seongwoo stands to meet him, [wraps his arms around Daniel](https://i.imgur.com/sddl5ik.jpg) and doesn’t let go. They hold onto each other as tightly as they can, because soon enough there may be nothing left to hold.

* * *

The rest of the interviews pass by in a blur. He feels bad for Hyeri and Jinyoung, who fail to make any impression at all, because the audience just has no interest in anyone else for now. Chungha fares a little bit better, but not much. Hyungseob seems to have captured some fans with his charm, so he doesn’t do too badly. After that the tributes start gathering attention again. But nothing is on the level of the big relationship reveal—not Sejeong’s caring nature, not Woojin’s quirky conversation, not Daehwi and Somi’s innocence and friendship. Chaeyeon gets some people talking simply because she’s so pretty. Jaehwan doesn’t really get anywhere. Yoojung is unbearably cute and seems to be a fan favorite. Haknyeon… well, he comes across as bright and innocent, but there’s something sinister lurking below that sunny smile. Particularly when he’s talking about his life at the orphanage.

(Daniel really, really doesn’t want to find out what that something is.)

Yeonjung is shy, a little difficult to get talking. Sewoon’s interview is calm and pleasant. Sohye fumbles over her words, which is sort of endearing until the audience realizes that this is the Hunger Games, and that sort of thing gets you nowhere.

Taehyun is the last one to go. Fiery as he is, Taehyun isn’t exactly a fan favorite, but he commands a sort of awe from the crowd whenever he speaks. He comes off as intimidating—impressive for someone of his height. Confident.

Then BoA says, “You’ve been gaining recognition in the Capitol for your connection to District 12’s past tributes,” and Taehyun suddenly looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Over the last few years, three of your friends have participated in the Games,” she continues when she gets no immediate answer. “Unfortunately, they have all fallen short.”

“They weren’t my friends,” Taehyun rasps, looking out upon the audience coldly. “They were… they were more. They were my family. Yongguk, Sanggyun. Taedong.” His voice, by now barely audible, catches a little on the final name.

A shiver runs down Daniel’s spine. The boys Taehyun had talked about last night, the nameless and faceless tributes Daniel lost sleep thinking about—they have names now. Yongguk, Sanggyun, and Taedong. Names largely lost to the passing of time, but names all the same.

“So what’s the difference?” BoA asks softly. “What do you have that they did not? What will make you a victor?”

Taehyun is silent, lost in thought. He shifts slightly, turning towards where his ally sits in the tribute arc, and in the bright light of the City Circle, his coal-black suit seems to ignite for the briefest of moments.

Along with the entire Capitol, maybe the entire nation, Daniel holds his breath.

“I still have some fight left in me,” Taehyun whispers, looking down. “So I’m going to find a way home.” And the crowd roars.

 

After the anthem, the tributes return to the lobby of the Training Center. Seongwoo finds him and they get on the same elevator. “I’ll come to your room later tonight,” he whispers in Daniel’s ear before getting off at the second floor.

This is the last night that Nayoung and Daniel will see Hweseung, Kahi, and Jonghyun. As soon as they finish watching the replay of tonight’s interviews, the three of them will go to the Games Headquarters to sign up sponsors and plan out a strategy for how to use any sponsor money they get.

Daniel is in a daze all throughout the replay. Kahi starts naming likely Capitol favorites—Jihoon, Seongwoo, Daniel, Nayoung, probably Chaeyeon and Sungwoon, possibly Hyungseob and Sejeong, maybe Taehyun and Sewoon—but Daniel barely registers any of it. When the screen goes dark, Jonghyun rises and pulls Nayoung into his arms. Hweseung shakes Daniel’s hand. Kahi tells Daniel, in her usual acerbic way, that he should probably just try not to die. Then they’re gone and it’s just Nayoung and Daniel, standing in the doorway, looking at each other with very little to say.

She speaks first, toneless as usual. “Good luck, Daniel. Be careful.”

“Good luck,” he manages to reply. She nods curtly, then leaves the room in a flutter of wispy dark fabric.

That night Seongwoo and Daniel don’t really talk. They don’t have words that can accurately describe what they’re about to go through. In the silence, though, their actions convey the desperation, the loneliness, the longing that weighs heavily upon them.

Certainly there are tributes awake on the floors above and below them. There are probably tributes taking in the sights and sounds of the Capitol from the Training Center rooftop, sleepless for their last few hours of life, breathing in the night air one last time. Daniel doesn’t worry about them. He’ll be doing plenty of that for the rest of his life.

He holds Seongwoo close and listens to the comforting sound of his even, peaceful breathing. Because after tonight, nothing will be the same. Their time together, while seemingly infinite, has been running out.

Too soon the night passes. Seongwoo goes with it, kissing Daniel quietly one last time and leaving just as sunlight begins to peek through the blinds. Caught between sleep and wakefulness, Daniel watches him go.

There are words that he may never get to say trapped in his mouth, searing his tongue. Maybe that is for the better. It would only be worse if he died after Seongwoo heard them.

Someday, in a better timeline, a peaceful universe, with the possibility of a happy ending…

He can wait.

* * *

Yongjin guides Daniel to the roof. The Capitol, for once, is quiet. The streets are practically bare; the lights are dim. They are all at home, preparing to watch their ultimate entertainment.

A hovercraft descends and drops down a ladder. When he places his hands and feet upon the rungs, some sort of electric current freezes him in place; he cannot move until the ladder rises all the way up and he is safely inside the hovercraft.

Inside, a Capitol attendant approaches with a needle and injects a metal tribute-tracking device under the skin on Daniel’s forearm. This is so the Gamemakers know where their tributes are at all times. Once that’s done, the ladder’s electrical current subsides, and Daniel is able to climb off.

As the ladder retrieves Yongjin from the roof, an Avox directs Daniel to a room in the hovercraft, where breakfast has been laid out. He tries to eat, because even though he’s a Career and will have all the supplies at the Cornucopia, there’s always the chance he could go hungry in the arena. Provided he survives.

Yongjin enters the room with the standard tribute outfit—brown pants and a light green shirt, with a sturdy black belt, a navy jacket, and leather boots. “The boots look especially durable,” he tells Daniel, helping him into the outfit. “Maybe rough terrain? The material for the shirt dries especially quickly, so there must be a lot of moisture. A large body of water, perhaps. The jacket is heat-reflecting, so the arena won’t be very warm.”

The hovercraft lands and they descend into the tunnels below the arena. A few more twists and turns, and they emerge into Daniel’s Launch Room.

“You have some time, take a seat.” Daniel obeys. His hands are shaking. _A few more minutes, and I could be bleeding out. My skull could be bashed in. I—_

“One more thing!” The stylist reaches into his pocket and produces Daniel’s token. “You left this in your interview suit.”

“Oh, thank you,” breathes Daniel, staring down at the carving. Absentmindedly, trying to keep himself from quivering, he mumbles, “Maybe you should have just sent this directly home? I would hate for it to be broken or damaged in some way when I die.”

“Don’t say that, Daniel,” says Yongjin, almost tiredly. He places the wooden carving in Daniel’s hand, eyes downcast but voice calm and even. “You can’t say that.”

“You and I both know I’m not going home alive,” Daniel says, pocketing the token. His voice shakes, and he hates himself for it.

“I don’t know that.” Yongjin’s voice is quieter, less stable. “Don’t give up.”

 _Oh, Yongjin,_ Daniel thinks despairingly. _If only you knew why I gave up long ago._

They sit in silence for a while. Daniel bites nervously at his fingers, but stops when Yongjin pats him on the shoulder. It feels like ages before a disembodied female voice announces that tributes should prepare for launch, and he rises to follow instructions.

Standing on the circular metal plate that will lift him into the arena, Daniel is struck by the most crippling fear. This is it. This is his end. There was never a way to run from his death, but now he cannot even stand still in the face of it. Now he is walking directly towards his demise.

“Good luck, Daniel,” Yongjin whispers. Before Daniel can even reply, a glass cylinder is lowering around him, sealing him in, sealing his fate.

The plate begins to rise, at first through subterranean darkness; after a few seconds a circle of bright, almost blinding sunlight becomes visible. The air is crisp and cool. Daniel can hear the rustling of leaves.

Then the plate bursts through the circle of light, emerging into the arena, and there is no going back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience. Life has been busy, but I'm back! :) The carnage begins next chapter...  
> I have posted the first chapter of the outtakes; those will be updated as dolor progresses.  
> [Check those out here for more information on some of the other characters in the dolor universe.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13403199/chapters/30706398)  
> ✿  
> [tumblr here](https://luxsideris.tumblr.com)  
> I'm on twitter at [@luxsideris!](https://twitter.com/luxsideris)  
> [tribute list here](http://listography.com/luxsideris/dolor/tribute_list)  
> [fic playlist here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLYbW26M8OAfGbpEVR4TjZyIKxY5M0NPwd)  
> 


	10. deliverance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Of course. Why would he want to help me? This is the Hunger Games."
> 
>  
> 
> **just going to put it out there, from this point on this fic will contain GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE/DEATH. if that bothers you, I’m not sure why you’re reading a Hunger Games story in the first place, to be honest… but just letting you know! :)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> deliverance: the state of being saved from something dangerous or unpleasant

Sixty seconds, and then a gong rings and the carnage is free to begin. If a tribute jumps from their plate before the sixty seconds are up, land mines activate and blow them to bits. Daniel stands still. Lee Daehwi of District 8 is to his left, Kim Sohye of District 12 to his right. The huge Cornucopia, source of all the tributes’ supplies, is straight ahead; various supplies and weapons are scattered about it, but most of them spill from the mouth. And sure enough, just within the mouth of the silver horn, perched upon a tower of backpacks, sits a machete, complete with a sheath and belt.

 _That’s for me,_ Daniel realizes, and gets ready to run.

Jihoon is on the other side of the Cornucopia. Nayoung is somewhere to Daniel’s left. Doyeon and Jieqiong are on Jihoon’s side of the Cornucopia. The Careers’ tribute plates have been spaced out evenly.

The tribute plates and the Cornucopia, are in a clearing, on elevated ground. Around them is a ring of trees; this forest seems to extend throughout most of the arena. The air is cold—no doubt because of the mountains that lie behind of the Cornucopia. There’s the rushing of water coming from the mountain’s direction, probably a river or spring. When Daniel looks back, he can see a clear lake in the distance, at a lower elevation than the Cornucopia clearing.

Just a little more time, and the bloodbath will begin. He looks for Seongwoo. The other boy stands a few spots to his right, body tense, a faraway look in his eyes.

 _I love you,_ Daniel thinks suddenly, desperately.

He tries to convince himself that it doesn’t really matter if he lives to tell Seongwoo that, because he’s probably heard it throughout too many lifetimes already.

And then the gong rings and suddenly everyone is running, some scooping up the meager supplies far from the horn and fleeing, others dashing into the fray to grab what they need. Daniel reaches the Cornucopia just as Jihoon, already on the other side with his scimitar, takes a swing at an unlucky tribute and stains the silver metal of the horn red with blood.

First kill of the Games goes to Park Jihoon of District 1. No surprise there.

Daniel ducks behind a box and grabs his machete. There’s so much blood everywhere already. Seongwoo is a good distance away from the Cornucopia, his sword already dripping with blood. Jeon Somi of District 8 is on the ground.

His stomach turns. Of course he hadn’t expected Seongwoo to be merciful. They are Careers, after all. But seeing the thirteen-year-old lying on the ground, her blood on Seongwoo’s sword… it awakens a fear that he had been trying to suppress. He has to do that now. He is a Career, and he is expected to kill.

Slowly, Daniel turns. Lee Daehwi, the fourteen-year-old from District 10, is looking for Somi, ducking quickly behind boxes and anxiously glancing around for any signs of his best friend. His heart sinks.

 _You can do this,_ Daniel thinks, quickly looking around. There’s an awful choking sound behind him, but he doesn’t turn to watch yet another tribute die. Most of the fighting is occurring on the other side of the Cornucopia as the Careers catch tributes who try to escape, so no one is coming at him, he’s not in any danger. He can do this. Daehwi hasn’t noticed him. He can do this.

But he can’t.

He’s still frozen as Daehwi moves away from to where Daniel has been standing for the last few seconds. _Just a slash and you’ll have a kill,_ he tells himself again. _You’ll satisfy any sponsors for a while and you won’t have to do it again._

With that thought, he moves out of the Cornucopia’s mouth and towards the defenseless boy. Daehwi has just caught sight of his district partner dead on the ground, and for the moment he looks about ready to break down. Right now, before he runs. Raising his weapon, Daniel prepares to go in for the kill—

Only he doesn’t get there.

Something wraps around his neck, immediately cutting off his air supply and dragging him away. He staggers backwards, choking, and falls to the ground. Through blurring vision, he can just make out the face of District 10’s Joo Haknyeon.

Daniel struggles to throw himself at Haknyeon, to slash his machete into his captor’s body, but his legs can’t support him anymore and his blade slices through nothing but air. He crumples back to the ground.

There are little spikes on the whip tightening around his neck— his neck is bleeding. His soon-to-be assassin is _laughing._ He becomes aware that Haknyeon is holding a knife, but not using it, which means that he wants to make Daniel’s death drawn-out. Daniel is still struggling, but he’s so weak and Haknyeon is so strong and Daniel is going to die. Panic shoots through him. There’s nothing he can do. He’s going to die. He didn’t even get to say goodbye to Seongwoo, and he’s going to die. Woojin and Jinwoo and Jisung and Hayi are watching him die—their faces are flashing before his eyes now, growing clearer and clearer as his vision darkens. Behind their faces is a different, much more sinister image: a pair of huge dark wings slowly unfurling from a lean back.

He tries to cry out, but he can’t manage anything besides a choked noise. He’s going to die. It’s over, it’s over, _it’s over—_

* * *

A few droplets of warm fluid splash over him, and the pressure around his neck lessens. A moment later, someone’s hand quickly uncoils the whip from around his neck, taking particular care with the spikes that have dug into his flesh.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Seongwoo’s shaky voice orders.

By the time Daniel’s vision has cleared and he feels okay to stand up again (although he’s still unsteady), the bloodbath is long over, the clearing deserted. Only the Careers and the dead remain. Bodies lie next to unclaimed supplies. Blood splatters the Cornucopia, masking the silver gleam with smears of crimson.

Haknyeon’s body is face-up, his eyes vacant, bloodied lips still twisted into a grim smile. His fingers are still touching his bloody butcher knife and the handle of his whip. There’s a gaping wound in his chest where Seongwoo’s sword went in and out. Daniel shudders. If Haknyeon had used the butcher knife instead of gloating, if Seongwoo hadn’t been there to save him, this would have been Daniel, lying dead on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

“You have to be careful,” says Seongwoo quietly, slinging an arm over Daniel’s shoulder and leading him closer to the Cornucopia, where he digs through boxes to find a medical pack. “I can’t always be there to protect you.”

“I know,” Daniel mumbles, voice scratchy. He coughs, wincing when Seongwoo reaches to dress the puncture marks on his neck. The fight with Haknyeon had lasted no more than ten seconds, and yet he feels like he had been struggling for ten minutes.

Jieqiong, Doyeon, and Nayoung walk towards them, each wiping blood from their weapons with leaves. “Who did you get?” Doyeon directs the question towards Seongwoo, eyeing the blood that stains his hands.

“District 8 female, Somi,” Seongwoo replies. His tone is utterly casual, but Daniel doesn’t miss the way his hands clench into fists at his sides. “And Haknyeon, District 10 male.”

Doyeon jerks her thumb in Daniel’s general direction, eyes narrowed. “And who gave him that?” When she gets no response, she motions towards her own neck, then looks to Daniel. “The neck thing. The wounds. Who hurt you?”

“Oh,” Daniel laughs awkwardly. “Joo Haknyeon. District 10.”

“The one who scored a _two_ in training?” Jieqiong looks skeptical.

“He was faking it, Jieqiong,” Nayoung sighs. “He spent some time by the whips station during training, but never actually took up a weapon from the rack. We should have known he would be like that.”

“We should have known who would be like that?” Jihoon comes striding around the Cornucopia. Before he reaches them, he bends down and wipes the blood from his blade onto a nearby corpse’s shirt.

“Haknyeon,” says Seongwoo frostily, taking a step forward. Daniel turns to look at him in surprise and finds that Seongwoo is glaring at Jihoon, who has straightened up to meet his gaze. The tension between them is palpable.

Next to Daniel, Nayoung draws in a sharp breath. Seongwoo has just opened his mouth to say something when she cuts in: “Alright, why don’t we list off who is dead and who is alive? We can go around and check if we have to.”

“I killed the boy from Eight,” Jieqiong volunteers immediately. “What was his name? Dae…”

“Daehwi,” says Seongwoo, voice quiet.

“Right, him!” says Jieqiong, a little too brightly. “Nayoung killed Chaeyeon. District 9. A shame, she was really pretty—”

“And I killed the girl from District 5,” Doyeon interjects gleefully, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a tiny metal star. He knows what that is, even before Doyeon says, “This is her token. Cute, huh?”  She holds it up with a sort of perverse pride that leaves Daniel feeling sick.

“I took out the boy from District 5, first kill,” Jihoon says carelessly. “I don’t know his name. Didn’t bother to learn it,” he adds, eyes flickering between Daniel and Seongwoo as he pulls a black cord bracelet from one pocket. There is blood visible on the fabric.

Taehyun’s words to Jihoon on the rooftop echo in Daniel’s brain. _I said, it’s not good to be a fucking liar at such a young age._

Jihoon is calmly tying the bracelet around his own left wrist, seemingly not minding the little lines of his victim’s blood that smear on his skin. Somehow that annoys Daniel more than the killing. The killing is necessary, a product of the Capitol’s greed for entertainment. The bloodthirst is entirely Jihoon’s own.

“Are you all going to collect tokens like trophies or something?”

The bitter words fall from Daniel’s mouth before he can stop them. Everyone’s eyes turn to him. Nayoung and Seongwoo are shooting him looks of warning; Jihoon and Doyeon look annoyed. Jieqiong just tilts her head.

“Who did you kill?” she asks calmly.

He averts his gaze, unable to answer the question. Jihoon scoffs. “That’s what I thought. Anyways,” he continues, turning back to the group, “I got the girl from 3 as she was running away, too. Anyone want to go around and count up the bodies, figure out who else went down?”

“Why don’t you do that, Daniel?” Doyeon calls, and walks towards the piles of boxes within the Cornucopia. “We’re going to look through the rest of the supplies.”

In a matter of seconds, the rest of the Careers have dispersed. Only Seongwoo stands in front of Daniel, his hands absentmindedly fiddling with the sheath of his sword.

“Don’t make him angry,” Seongwoo warns. He steps closer and wraps a bloody hand around Daniel’s wrist. The blood is drying, forming an unpleasant sort of crust. “I don’t know what you were thinking.”

“I don’t know either,” Daniel mumbles. Yeah, in hindsight, it was pretty stupid of him to provoke the most ruthless people in the arena. His own allies, no less. He’s definitely not supposed to piss off his allies. “I guess I couldn’t just watch them be so heartless. And, I don’t know, there was just something about—”

“Daniel,” Seongwoo mutters, admonishing. He waves his free hand towards a nearby body, and Daniel has to push down the wave of queasiness that rises within him. “Not here, not now. Let’s go. Come on.”

The corpse lies on its side, facing away from them, long black hair caked with dust. They can see blood pooling at its front, spilling from some sort of wound. “You’re going to keep count,” says Seongwoo, leaning down and carefully turning the body over just enough for them to see its face.

It’s Kang Mina, the fourteen-year-old from District 3. There is a deep gash running down most of her front. “Jihoon’s work,” says Seongwoo under his breath.

Her eyes are wide open, glassy. Daniel winces and carefully looks away. “One,” he says, and his voice comes out so small that he himself can barely hear it.

Seongwoo stares at him then, studying him, and there’s no emotion in his eyes. They are as lifeless as the girl lying before them. Daniel looks at the blood on Seongwoo’s hands, looks at the small smears of red left behind on his own wrist from where Seongwoo held it, and suddenly feels a strange rush of fear. “One,” he says more quickly, more loudly. More coldly. “Let’s move on.”

When Seongwoo reaches for his wrist again, he subtly pulls back. He doesn’t look back to gauge the hurt in his lover’s eyes. Instead, he walks toward the next corpse.

There is a hole through her body, an awful wound clearly made by the brutal rending of Nayoung’s spear. “Jung Chaeyeon,” he starts, glad when his voice doesn’t shake. “District 9. Two.”

Seongwoo does not speak.

There’s an arrow in the back of this one. It cut away the end of her pigtail and left the rest wet with her blood. “Han Hyeri, District 5,” Daniel says tonelessly. “Killed by Doyeon. That’s three.”

Not far from where Daniel stepped off his tribute plate, they find someone that the Careers didn’t kill. Kim Sohye is lying face up, deep cuts adorning her torso, a final look of terror frozen on her face. On her neck, Daniel sees the telltale marks of Haknyeon’s spiked whip, and his hand unconsciously goes to his own neck.

_That could have been me._

He doesn’t realize he’s said it out loud until Seongwoo, standing just behind him, makes a noise halfway between a sigh and a sob and stalks off toward the Cornucopia, leaving Daniel to continue the grim tally on his own.

Kim Sohye, District 12. That’s four. Jihoon and Doyeon are talking as they set up a tent at the tail end of the Cornucopia.

Joo Haknyeon, District 10. Five. Nayoung has spread a blanket over a portion of ground and is cleaning blood off of her spear. Jieqiong sits next to her, spinning a throwing knife in one hand.

A body lies face down with a throwing knife buried right in the center of its back. He doesn't need to turn it over to know who it is. It’s Lee Daehwi of District 8, felled by Jieqiong because Daniel himself couldn’t bring himself to make the kill. Six.

Seven: Jeon Somi from District 8, slashed apart by Seongwoo’s sword. Seongwoo is watching Daniel again, face impassive. There is still blood on his hands. Daniel walks towards him, looking away.

District 5’s Bae Jinyoung, the first death of the 101st Hunger Games. He is smiling in death, peaceful face completely at odds with the gruesome wounds left by Jihoon’s scimitar. Back in training he had worn that same smile as he played around with Jihoon at the—

“He lied,” Daniel realizes suddenly, incensed. He doesn’t even know why this makes him angry, but it’s enough to make him turn to Seongwoo and whisper hotly, “He lied! Back there! ”

Seongwoo doesn’t immediately reply, just looks back at him wearily, so Daniel continues. “He said he didn’t even know Jinyoung’s name. But they were clearly friends during training. Why? What does he stand to gain from—”

“Daniel,” Seongwoo hisses, a warning. Obediently Daniel falls silent. Because yes, he knows why, he knows what Jihoon stands to gain from this. The more ruthless Jihoon can seem, the more fans he can woo with his strength, the more support he can gain from Capitolians. He wants to seem like even more of a contender. The Capitol likes contenders.

The Capitol does not like, however, to be self-aware. Daniel has said enough to expose Jihoon’s untruth to anyone with half a brain, but anything more and it would be seen by the Capitolians with actual brains as questioning their views. Seongwoo yet again knows how to play this game better than Daniel does, and he should be grateful for it, but instead it just leaves him feeling a bit frustrated with himself.

“Come on, then,” Seongwoo mutters, turning back towards the Cornucopia. “We can report back to the others. How many?”

“Eight dead.”

“Okay, eight. Then we can all clear out so the hovercrafts can come and collect the bodies.”

He doesn’t reach for Daniel’s hand again.

* * *

The other Careers are done setting up the tent and have resumed their rummaging through the supplies. Seongwoo does the talking while Daniel hovers uncertainly behind him, eyeing the blood on Seongwoo’s hands and wishing that he could just wash it all off.

“Eight, huh?” Jihoon looks satisfied. “If anyone else died away from the bloodbath, we’ll know soon.”

“Let’s go to the lake,” Nayoung calls. She hands Daniel a backpack, which he opens to find empty water bottles and some iodine. “The hovercrafts need us to be gone, and we can just purify some water while we’re there. Once they fire the cannons they can collect the bodies.”

For each dead tribute, a cannon fires, heard by all tributes in the arena. Normally these go off at the moment a tribute’s tracker detects their death, but the bloodbath is so chaotic and has so many deaths that the Gamemakers have to wait. As the Careers start heading towards the lake, the cannons begin to fire. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. They stop. No one has died since the end of the bloodbath.

“Eight down,” Jihoon murmurs. “Fifteen to go.”

Daniel looks back at the Cornucopia and sees a Capitol hovercraft beginning to descend, extending a set of huge metal claws down to pick up a body. Quickly he turns his face away. Eight children have lost their lives today. He was lucky not to be one of them, but even if he had died he is more fortunate than them, somehow always having a future in a different universe while their lives have presumably just ended.

He splits away from the rest of the group with his empty bottles, filling them and using the iodine to purify the water. Seongwoo can follow if he wants. It doesn’t matter much to Daniel at the moment. The Games have just begun and already he’s sick of them.

Distantly he wonders how Woojin is doing, if he’s escaped the Cornucopia unscathed. Haknyeon had been the biggest mystery for Daniel before the Games began, but he’s dead now. Woojin had been right behind him—his high score and low profile along with his axe skills could translate into any number of results in the arena. Taehyun too, with his knife skills and unyielding defiance—had he and Sungwoon gotten out together? Was either one of them injured as they left? Are they looking for each other right now?

The other Careers sit by the edge of the water and talk; he can hear their indistinct voices drifting down the bank towards him, but can’t actually understand anything. The work takes him a while, but he’s just about finished when he stills for a moment to look towards the other Careers and realizes that they’re arguing now, voices raised. Jihoon is getting up into Seongwoo’s face.

Daniel is pretty sure he hears his own name being discussed.

“Oh boy,” he mumbles, quickly finishing the last bottle and getting up to return to the group. “Shit—”

A cannon goes off.

He whips around, breath caught in his throat, expecting to see someone with a bloodstained weapon, someone on the ground, but instead he is met with stunned silence. Everyone is standing. No one is hurt. They have not begun to fight.

Someone else in this arena clearly has been though. Only a couple hours after the initial bloodbath of the  101st Hunger Games, a ninth tribute has just died.

Letting out a shaky breath, Daniel hurries back to the other Careers as fast as his legs can carry him. No one is speaking. Jihoon and Seongwoo have backed away from each other and the girls are standing to one side looking apprehensive. Seongwoo’s hands are clean. Jihoon’s are not.

Nayoung is the first to say something, breaking the eerie silence that has stretched across the shore. “Wash your hands and then we’ll go back to the Cornucopia, Jihoon.” He nods, avoiding all of their eyes, and obeys.

* * *

Daniel slips his hand into Seongwoo’s on the way back; it is cold from being in the lake water, but comforting to hold onto nevertheless.

The bodies that had littered the Cornucopia are gone. Only lingering bloodstains of various sizes give any indication that eight people had just been killed right there.

Nayoung, evidently their de facto leader, starts to explain what they will do. She waves her hand towards the tent at the tail end of the Cornucopia. “We’re going to sleep here. Two people can take watch through the night, each on individual shifts, so no one dares to attack us when it’s completely dark out. We’ll go hunting for tributes during the daytime and those who took watch shifts can catch up on some sleep then. If we want to go in smaller groups to hunt then we can. How does that sound?”

They all nod. Certainly a reasonable plan. Daniel thinks about all of the other tributes in the arena, the ones who will also be hunting, but not for kills—for food, for survival, for materials—and feels strangely guilty.

“So we’ll use today to settle in, pack for tribute hunting tomorrow, and see who got taken out after the bloodbath.” Nayoung looks up at the sky, face expressionless as always. “The anthem should be played soon, I think the Games started later in the day than when we left the Capitol.”

It is getting dark, the previously mild chill in the air becoming an unpleasant cold that permeates Daniel’s jacket and makes him shiver a little. He ducks into the opening of the Cornucopia to look for sleeping bags, flipping rapidly through half-open boxes to find what he’s looking for. So focused is he on his task that he completely misses someone else entering behind him and asking a question; when he realizes that he isn’t alone, he turns and looks at them in confusion.

“I said, are you okay?” Nayoung cocks her head to one side. “You weren’t with us when we were all talking. But from the way Seongwoo described it…” She pauses, then shakes her head slowly. “Haknyeon did quite a lot of damage during the bloodbath?”

“Yeah,” replies Daniel flatly, pulling out a sleeping bag from a larger box. “Chopped up District 12’s Sohye while choking her to death. He could have done that to me if he didn’t drag it out so long. Got arrogant, I guess.”

His district partner continues to look apprehensive. Something about the look on her face is so utterly annoying to Daniel; he struggles to keep his voice even as he asks, “What is it?”

“You saw that Seongwoo and Jihoon were fighting, right? Just before this, at the beach?” Daniel nods, and Nayoung sighs. “Seongwoo confronted Jihoon about Haknyeon.” When Daniel tenses and tries to see if any of the other Careers are near enough to listen in, she quickly says, “You don’t need to look, they’re straightening out the tent.”

“What was the problem?” He pulls out another sleeping bag, vague discomfort beginning to settle over him.

“Jihoon saw Haknyeon ready to kill you,” Nayoung replies, her voice getting more and more hushed. She sighs again. “Seongwoo says he just… stood there. That he was willing to let it happen.”

Daniel feels as though heat is rushing through his veins, a deathly fire that stills his hands and causes fear to rise up hot within him. But he is not surprised at all.

“Of course,” he says, and it comes out strangely calm. “Why would he want to help me?”

Alliances mean very little when they’re made for show. Jihoon likely felt more kinship with Haknyeon than he did with Daniel in that moment, especially after Daniel and Seongwoo cemented themselves as Capitol favorites and squeezed him out of the spotlight. Of course he wants Daniel gone, and by extension that would lead to Seongwoo gone too.

“Just letting you know,” Nayoung continues. Her expression smooths out, the look of concern that was evident before vanishing and being replaced by one of bland disinterest. It’s always amazing to Daniel just how easily she can do that, like she’s simply flipping a switch. “That’s what happened. In case you were planning on trusting him anytime soon, you know?”

“This is the Hunger Games,” is all that Daniel answers.

She doesn’t say anything else, just stands and leaves him to continue looking through boxes.

* * *

Not long after that the sky darkens and they gather around a fire Seongwoo started not too far from the tent, spreading out blankets to sit on as they wait for the anthem to play. Jieqiong starts up some sort of idle chit-chat with Nayoung and Doyeon quickly joins in, but once that conversation dies down there is no sound except the crackling of the fire before them. Seongwoo settles next to Daniel and grabs his hand without a word.

“Who’s going to stay up on watch tonight?” Nayoung speaks up.

“I will,” Seongwoo pipes up. “First shift.”

“Me too,” Daniel says quickly. “After him, I mean.”

There’s a beat of awkward silence, which Nayoung breaks with a casual, “Okay, that sounds fine.”

“Wait a minute.” Jihoon bites the words out, leaning forward, and points directly at Daniel. For a moment the firelight paints his features red and Daniel has to will himself not to flinch. “You think _this guy_ could protect us from anyone hoping to attack?” Seongwoo’s hand starts trying to pull free from Daniel’s but he holds on, unwilling to see the other boy throw himself at Jihoon, who is gesturing at them both now. “And you think putting _these two_ on watch on the same night is—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because the blaring of the Capitol anthem interrupts him, and they all look towards the sky instead. A practically invisible hovercraft like the ones that had picked up bodies earlier is now in the sky, transporting a gigantic screen; the Capitol seal is being projected onto it. The anthem fades out, and then photographs of any tributes that died that day are projected onto the screen.

The Careers know there will be nine faces in the sky tonight. They know who eight of those nine will be. The only information they can get from tonight’s anthem is the identity of that ninth dead tribute.

District 3, Mina. District 5, Jinyoung and Hyeri. _Already known._ District 8, Daehwi and Somi. _Still no one new._ District 9, Chaeyeon. District 10, Haknyeon.

District 11, Yeonjung. That’s the ninth tribute. She escaped the bloodbath but was victim to either another tribute or to the arena itself. Then District 12’s Sohye. Her face vanishes from the projection, replaced by the Capitol seal and accompanied by some final musical notes from the Capitol anthem before the sky goes dark and everything is quiet once again.

“Did anyone see the Eleven girl during the bloodbath?” Jieqiong asks. “Did she leave injured?”

“I did,” replies Doyeon. “She was fine. I think she even got a backpack.”

“So then someone out there killed her.” Nayoung stands and claps her hands, the sharp sound startling them and getting them all to stand up as well. “Sleep now. We go on the hunt tomorrow.”

They start to head towards the tent. Seongwoo leans in to kiss Daniel gently. “Want me to tuck you in?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“If you want,” Daniel responds, smiling.

Only Jihoon still sits before the fire, its light bathing his face in warm gold. Daniel meets the District 1 boy’s eyes and thinks vaguely that he should probably be scared, but Seongwoo’s hand is warm and his presence is comforting— _for now,_ he thinks, _for now, there is nothing to be afraid of._

 

He wakes in the middle of the night to the ominous, echoing shot of a cannon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I'm really sorry that it took so long for me to update. I'm here now :) No guarantees on update schedule for the rest of this fic, but again, I'm not planning to abandon it, since I've put so much planning into it. Thank you so much for your patience in sticking with me.  
> ✿  
> [Check out the outtakes for more information on some of the other characters in the dolor universe; I'll update this soon with some interesting POVs!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13403199/chapters/30706398)  
> [tumblr here](https://luxsideris.tumblr.com)  
> I'm on twitter at [@luxsideris!](https://twitter.com/luxsideris)  
> [tribute list here, updated with deaths](http://listography.com/luxsideris/dolor/tribute_list)  
> [fic playlist here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLYbW26M8OAfGbpEVR4TjZyIKxY5M0NPwd)  
> ✿  
> Kudos and/or comments are much appreciated! I reply to all comments as quickly as I can.


	11. doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You didn't have to run like a coward, did you?"
> 
> The Careers deal with tributes, mutts, and death. And each other, of course. Some things never change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> doubt: a feeling of uncertainty about the truth, reality, or nature of something

Suddenly Daniel is wide awake. The cannon has just barely gone off when he scrambles to his feet and, stepping quickly over the legs of other Careers, runs from the tent.

It is dark, so dark that he almost trips over unorganized supplies as he moves. The only source of light is the remnants of the first night’s fire, now just cinders and dimmed embers. There is a figure sitting completely still next to it, facing away from Daniel. 

Relief crashes over Daniel in waves. “Seongwoo?” he half-calls, half-whispers, hurrying towards it. The figure turns, just in time for Daniel to see Seongwoo’s face and then fall into his arms, pushing him back onto the blanket that he had been sitting on. 

“Daniel? What is it? You don’t have to take watch yet, you know.” Seongwoo stares up at him, wearing a look of mild concern. “Was it the sound of the cannon?”

Refusing to answer that question directly, Daniel buries his face in the fabric of Seongwoo’s jacket and runs his fingers over the bracelet on Seongwoo’s left wrist. They stay like that for a while, the arena startlingly silent around them.

At some point Seongwoo falls asleep and Daniel quietly begins to tug himself free so that he can sit up and take some sort of watch, but Seongwoo’s hold is surprisingly tight and he ends up just lying on the blanket instead.

Another one down, ten now. Fourteen are left to play. Do tributes usually die on the first night when there are no Careers on the hunt? Maybe some other tributes have been actively fighting each other. It could even be exposure to the elements. 

The sun comes up faster than Daniel expects it to. With it the Careers rise, stretching and readying their weapons for a day of hunting. 

He shakes Seongwoo awake when everyone comes to gather around the fire. “Wake up. Nayoung is deciding duties for today, I think.”

Sure enough, Nayoung calls out to them as they join the others, “Seongwoo, you’ll be with me today. We’re going hunting.”

“And what about Daniel?” Seongwoo’s eyes are hard. “Is he staying here with them?”

Jihoon scoffs, the noise so small Daniel almost misses it.

Nayoung shakes her head. “No, he’s coming with us.” 

_ “Hunting?” _ Doyeon speaks up with a grimace. “You’re taking him on the first hunt?”

“Is there a problem?” Nayoung frowns at her. “Surely you can wait a single day?”

Doyeon presses her lips together and says nothing else. Jihoon (unwisely, Daniel thinks) starts to say something but Nayoung cuts him off. “What is it now? You were so doubtful of his ability to keep our camp protected yesterday. So you’ll be on guard today and tomorrow. After that you’ll get a chance to go hunting.”

“But—”

Her voice has an impatient edge to it now. Daniel has to suppress his smile. “You’ll get your shot soon enough.” Jihoon finally drops the matter after some glowering. 

She turns back to Seongwoo and Daniel, expression calm as ever. “Eat something and grab your stuff, we’ll leave once you’re ready.”

They set out after a quick breakfast of rice and fruit. “Of the fourteen left in the arena,” explains Nayoung as they walk into the trees, “six are here at the Cornucopia. That leaves eight tributes. I’m assuming most will be in the forests around the lake or even as close as the Cornucopia. So we’ll head out and scour the area between the Cornucopia and the lake today.”

“Where will Jieqiong and Doyeon search tomorrow?” Seongwoo asks.

“The forest area closer to the mountains,” Nayoung answers. “There should definitely be tributes there, I’m just assuming the greatest number will be in the area we search. We can send Jihoon and a couple of us here the day after that.”

Around them the trees gradually thicken and the ground beneath their feet becomes covered in forest litter. Daniel feels terribly inelegant stepping through the undergrowth with twigs snapping and cracking underfoot, but it doesn’t seem to matter how hard he tries to reduce the noise he makes, he always sounds like he’s stomping.

“Sorry,” he whispers when Seongwoo nudges at his side with a snort of laughter.

They walk on for a while, scanning the woods around them for tributes or forest creatures. At one point a flock of fat birds takes off from a nearby tree, flapping and squawking. Still no tributes anywhere in sight.

“Who do you think died?” Seongwoo asks Nayoung some time later. They’ve reached a section of forest where the floor has fewer twigs and more soft leaves, so Daniel doesn’t feel like he’s alerting half of the arena to their presence. “Last night, in the middle of the night.”

Nayoung shrugs. “I doubt it was a contender,” she replies. “When we skip the Career hunt night one, usually violence is low. People are settling in and don’t usually like to fight. It’s also too early for the Gamemakers to drive tributes together.”

“So one of the lower scores then,” says Seongwoo, nodding.

“Yeah. And they probably fell victim to the arena, unless someone out there is really aggressive. So the boy from Nine or the girl from Ten, maybe. Could also be either of the Sixes, but I think they both had allies. Who knows.”

Jaehwan, Yoojung, Hyungseob, or Chungha? Daniel doesn’t think about it too long. He knows almost all of those tributes enough to feel sorrow over their possible deaths. 

They continue on, changing direction occasionally. By now they must have been walking for hours and every single rustle of leaves has been some sort of small furry animal. Daniel is about to suggest they give up on this area and backtrack to go somewhere else when a twig suddenly snaps somewhere nearby. Seongwoo stops dead in his tracks and holds up a hand.

“Where?” Nayoung whispers. Seongwoo motions sharply to the left with his shoulder. 

Slowly, Daniel turns his head. He can just make out the shape of something mostly hidden behind a bush. Someone is crouching there. Nayoung raises her spear as the tribute takes off running; it misses only because the person she’s aiming at dives to one side.

“Go!” she yells. Seongwoo and Daniel are already giving chase, dodging tree trunks, ducking under hanging branches, and leaping over logs that suddenly present themselves in their path. Right behind them, Nayoung has picked up her spear and is running as well.

Taehyun—that’s who they’re chasing, Daniel only catches a glimpse of his face, but it’s enough. He’s scarily fast. Daniel bursts out into a little forest clearing and nearly runs straight into Seongwoo, who has stopped in the middle of it, panting. 

“Where’d he go?” gasps Daniel as Nayoung sprints out to join them.

“That way,” says Seongwoo, breathless. He points further into the woods, into a darker, more dense thicket of trees. One of his throwing knives is stuck squarely in the center of a tree trunk—he must have thrown it once he reached the clearing, with a clear view of his target. “We can catch him eventually. Do we chase?”

“No,” answers Daniel without hesitation. When the other two look at him, he shakes his head. “He’s not just running off to who knows where,” he says as firmly as he can manage. “It’s Taehyun. He’s tricky. He knows where he’s going. It’s definitely best not to chase.”

Nayoung, to his surprise, does not argue, so they leave it at that, prying Seongwoo’s knife out of the wood and heading back the way they came. There’s a clear path of destruction through the undergrowth from where they had smashed through it in pursuit of Taehyun, which Daniel can’t imagine is good if any tributes have been tracking them to set up an ambush or something of the sort. 

“No one attacks Careers this early, and there’s three of us,” says Seongwoo when Daniel says something about it. “It’s going to be fine.” 

“So,” Nayoung sighs. “Where next?”

A different direction leads them through a gradually thinning treeline to the edge of the arena’s lake. “How much do we want to keep hunting?” Seongwoo ventures, sitting down on a rock and gazing out over the water. “Nayoung, you’re the one that sent us out this way. Do we explore a different area now?”

She takes a while to answer, turning slowly and looking around while Daniel takes a careful seat next to Seongwoo. “Maybe we go around the lake,” she finally says. “It doesn’t affect any of the routes for future patrols and there’s still a chance for us to find other tributes. If they aren’t thinking about how dangerous it would be, living out here in the open by the easiest water source for everyone to access, we could definitely find some.”

(Privately, Daniel thinks it would be wonderful if they  _ didn’t _ find any tributes, but he supposes he can’t avoid it forever.) 

They take a short break to eat the food they brought before heading around the lake, keeping a watchful eye out for traces of other tributes. Somehow there doesn’t seem to be anyone, though—perhaps all of the other tributes are smart enough to get out of such a commonly used area. It’s getting late. The sun is beginning to set. Still they’ve found no one, and it’s clear Nayoung is getting a bit anxious about this, although she doesn’t say anything out loud. Just as Daniel is about to open his mouth and suggest they all return to the Cornucopia, there’s movement at the edge of the water up ahead and all hands fly to weapons in anticipation.

They see a flutter of brown and white wings. It’s a small bird, the size of Daniel’s hand. Probably a common species along lakeshores. “A fucking bird?” murmurs Seongwoo in annoyance. It has a long, thin beak that must be a couple times longer than its little head. 

Thankfully they’re paying attention when the thing suddenly opens its bill and spits some sort of tiny bullet-like projectile; it whizzes by Seongwoo’s left ear at an impossibly fast pace, only missing because he ducks. Nayoung’s spear flies and pierces the mutt’s body before it can shoot anything else.

Daniel finds his voice first, trudging over to retrieve her spear and gingerly picking up the bird’s carcass. “Well, I guess it wasn’t just a bird.” Getting no reply, he hands Nayoung her weapon and holds up the bird. “Uh, fresh meat is always good, right?”

“I thought it was just… a regular lakeshore bird. A snipe, I think they’re called.” Nayoung speaks in an undertone. She looks unaffected, but her voice is halting. “The Gamemakers probably thought it would be funny to have them into mutts. Have them live up to their name and actually snipe us.”

“We should get out of here,” is all Seongwoo says in return, face white.

As night falls, they head back towards camp, making sure to tread extra carefully in case of tributes who have followed them or traps that may have been set on their return path. The journey is tense and quiet, save for Daniel’s heavy steps, and it’s hard even to see his allies’ faces as it gets darker and darker.

A cannon fires and they all jump, Seongwoo cursing under his breath. Alarmed, Daniel quickens his pace. “Do you think they’re okay?” he asks, then realizes that he’s speaking to no one—Nayoung and Seongwoo, lagging behind, seem to be in no hurry at all.

“They’re fine,” Nayoung replies with a shrug. A pause, in which Daniel imagines the slight cold smile she must be wearing right now. “Even if they somehow aren’t fine, it’s fine.”

They continue walking without another word. Upon arrival, they find the rest of the Careers unharmed, gathered around the fire and whispering among themselves; their allies stop speaking once they sit down in the circle.

“You didn’t get anyone, did you?” Jihoon’s tone is brusque. Wordlessly, Seongwoo shakes his head.

“Anthem will be soon. We’ll see who died.” Doyeon, sitting opposite Seongwoo and Daniel, is watching them, her eyes reflecting the orange flames. “From tonight and from late last night.”

They cook the dead bird and, while eating, discuss their findings from the day of hunting. Nayoung has just finished speaking when the anthem blares and everyone’s attention turns to that instead.

The first face up in the sky is District 9’s Kim Jaehwan. The second is Choi Yoojung of District 10. Doyeon inhales sharply at that one, face twisting, but other than her reaction, nothing too notable. No one seems to be surprised. No one seems to care.

_ How is Sewoon holding up? _ Daniel thinks. Certainly, he and Jaehwan were allies. Did he watch his friend die? Was he injured himself? Did they even find each other at all? And how did Doyeon get to know little Yoojung, enough to react to the news of her death, enough to look visibly upset?

“Jihoon and I take watch tonight,” Nayoung quietly orders. “Sleep.”

They don’t need to be told twice.

* * *

Daniel wakes the next morning to find that Seongwoo has already gotten up and is preparing their breakfast with Nayoung. The other Career girls are nowhere to be seen. Jihoon is still asleep in a different corner of the tent.

“Jieqiong and Doyeon already left,” Nayoung tells Daniel when he asks about them. “Not for too long though.”

They heat up a couple cans of pumpkin soup. It tastes distinctly Capitolian, which is strange because they’re in the arena, but Daniel figures that’s one of the perks of being a Career—a steady source of good food. And supplies in general. Not to mention the protection of not having a blade automatically shoved straight through your body whenever you see a Career tribute. 

_ Pretty good benefits,  _ he reflects.  _ At least until someone loses their temper. _

It takes a bit longer for Jihoon to wake up on his own, but he does eventually peel himself out of his sleeping bag to grab some food. By now the sun is shining brightly, and the only thing they’ve accomplished in camp so far is idle chitchat.

Strangely enough, it’s Daniel who gets them all moving. “Shouldn’t we sort the supplies, maybe figure out what we should be bringing on patrols?” he asks halfway into a heated discussion Seongwoo and Jihoon are having about the paranormal. Nayoung jumps on the idea and sends Daniel and Seongwoo to the Cornucopia while she and Jihoon go hunting (for animals, not tributes). 

“Fresh meat is always good, right?” she says with a grin as they depart.

Then it’s just Daniel and Seongwoo standing side by side at the mouth of the Cornucopia, looking around at the piles of supplies surrounding them.

“What were you even thinking when you suggested we sort these?” Seongwoo huffs. “What did you think we were looking for?” Daniel turns to him and sees the broad smile on his lips. His own unconsciously curve into one as well. 

“I think I just wanted you two to shut up,” he replies, and Seongwoo chuckles. “Why don’t we dig out all the spare clothing first? And then any more weapons?”

So they do. They comb through box after box, shoving the ones containing clothing to one side and placing weapons to another in an empty container. When Daniel stumbles upon a throwing axe, he makes sure to shove it as far down in the weapon box as he can—he does not want Park Woojin putting one of those through his skull. Seongwoo sees it too, but of course doesn’t say anything. They know they should be careful with what they say out loud, since there must be cameras in here too, recording everything they’re doing. 

Daniel would be lying if he says the thoughts of sponsors and cameras don’t motivate him to kiss Seongwoo halfway into sorting out the food. It’s slow and achingly sweet, not exactly a moment he’d  _ like _ to share with the entirety of Panem, but it’s all he can do now, hold Seongwoo close and wish they could just burst through the walls of this arena together.

But they can’t. They’re trapped in here. Just like they’ve been trapped within whatever sick endless cycle brought them into this universe in the first place.

At least they’re together. They have that much.

 

The four of them realize something is happening when, in the distance, they catch sight of movement on the side of the mountain. They’re so far away that the rolling boulder they see looks like a cobble.

No one really gives much of a reaction at first. They continue eating lunch. “I bet that killed someone,” Jihoon mutters, taking another bite of rabbit. Sure enough, a cannon blast follows less than a minute later. 

“Who do you think that one was?” Nayoung asks, standing to try and get a better look. Evidently she doesn’t see anything, because she sits back down right after.

“Does it matter?” grunts Jihoon. “They’ve all got to die anyways if—”

“Well, probably not Taehyun, since we saw him yesterday,” Seongwoo cuts in, ignoring Jihoon’s eye roll. “And probably not Sungwoon either then.”

“I doubt Kim Sejeong or Park Woojin would be up there either. They’re District 7, I feel like they’re way more suited for the forests and not for the mountains.”

Daniel nods. That makes sense. “Chungha and Sejeong were allies, and if I remember correctly, Hyungseob and Woojin were—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence because he’s interrupted by another cannon.  _ Two deaths? Within a couple minutes of each other? _

“Well, unless the Gamemakers went crazy on the other side of the arena, I doubt two tributes would just die like that. Jieqiong and Doyeon must have found some tributes in the mountainside forest,” Nayoung says. She doesn’t look too concerned.

“That boulder must have been pretty close to where they were, right?” Seongwoo is looking out into the distance now, brow wrinkled. “Do you think—”

“They’re fine,” Jihoon replies flatly. A pause, in which Daniel sees the slight cold smile he’s wearing now. “It’s day two, they have to be.”

There are a lot of things implied by that last sentence. Everyone understands exactly what those things are, but no one says anything else out loud.

 

Jieqiong comes running back to camp within the hour. Just Jieqiong. Doyeon is nowhere to be found. Everyone knows what that means before Jieqiong even opens her mouth.

“She’s dead,” Jieqiong whispers. She's shaking, gasping for breath.

Daniel blinks and looks at the ground. He isn’t sure what exactly he expected to happen. Maybe he expected his first ally death to be met with more mourning, or maybe he expected it to stick out more. Instead Doyeon’s passing is met with nothing but tense silence.

“What do you mean, she's  _ dead? _ ” Jihoon practically hisses, finally breaking it. The anger on his face doesn’t really seem justified to Daniel, but he stays silent. “You're here, but she's dead?”

“I…” Jieqiong struggles to find words. She’s still trembling. “I… I ran.”

“You  _ ran, _ ” he scoffs. “You ran.” Daniel watches in horror as he stalks up to Jieqiong and points his finger in her face. “You…”

“I couldn't have saved her,” Jieqiong shouts, flinching away. “That District 11 boy, Sewoon—he’s gone insane! I don't know what happened, but—” 

He can feel blood rushing in his ears. Before he can think about it he’s walking forward to put a hand on her shoulder. “Can you back off a little, Jihoon?” he asks, as calmly as he can manage. 

It isn’t until after the words have left Daniel’s mouth that he knows how bad of an idea they were. He doesn’t even want to see the look on Seongwoo’s face right now. Fortunately Jihoon doesn’t fly at him or anything like that—his eyes just dart from side to side before he backs away, facial expression controlled. Probably figures it isn’t worth the other Careers’ ire. Not on day two. Daniel relaxes slightly.

“He’s gone  _ mental, _ ” Jieqiong insists, her voice growing steadier. “We killed the District 6 girl, you know.”

He starts, his hand falling from her shoulder. Distantly he is aware of the strange looks his allies are giving him.  _ Chungha is gone, _ he realizes with a shiver.  _ Kim Chungha is dead. _

_ Sungwoon will find out tonight. _ Somehow this affects him more than losing Doyeon. It makes him remember Hweseung’s words from that talk in the dining room even more: “They will never have another moment in private. In less than a week, they will go into the arena. By the end of the Games at least one of them will be dead.”

Well, he was right. Of course. Daniel had known all along that Hweseung was right. It still stings a little though.

The District 1 girl continues to speak, her words a bit slower and easier to understand now. “Doyeon was going through her supplies when suddenly Eleven came barreling out of the woods and sliced through her neck. He looked over and his eyes—his eyes were so wild. He was crazy. I have no doubt that he's gone insane.”

“So you ran,” says Nayoung quietly. She almost sounds bored, which is simultaneously impressive and terrifying. “Good choice, or else you would have been next.”

Jieqiong smiles hesitantly at her. “Yeah,” she says, voice hoarse. “So I lived.”

“I don't doubt you on that one,” Jihoon interjects. “I don't believe you could have saved her. Just—you didn't have to run like a coward, did you?”

* * *

There’s no more discussion to be had after that. Jieqiong retreats into the tent and stares at nothing for the rest of the day; no one really has the heart to make her do anything. Not like anyone really checks on her either. Seongwoo, tight-lipped, walks up behind Daniel the moment Jihoon is turned away and shoots him a warning look. Obviously he isn’t happy about the whole provoking Jihoon thing, but Daniel can’t really bring himself to care.

Has he already been desensitized? Not just to death in general, but to the idea of his own allies dying? It’s a question that floats in his mind as they eat a gloomy and silent dinner, as the anthem plays, as Doyeon and Chungha’s faces disappear from the sky forever—even as they all turn in and he takes watch for the night, waving Seongwoo off and telling him to get some sleep instead. He might be more saddened by Chungha’s death than Doyeon’s. His own ally! 

Up until this point, Daniel had assumed that the Career alliance, while clearly motivated by individual gain, still might hold some semblance of concern. Maybe there would be a hint of caring for one another, even between the lines that had already been drawn. But there’s none of that. Not from his fellow Careers, and not from Daniel himself.

It is bitterly cold tonight, and his breath forms clouds in the frigid air. Who can he trust? Maybe Nayoung. No, probably not. Her words, her tone, her indifference to loss of life—Jihoon echoed those earlier today. Both of them are classic Careers. They are too much alike, no matter how much Nayoung would disagree. The only difference is that one likes Daniel a little more than the other does.

So is Seongwoo the only one he can trust? Only Seongwoo. Is that how it will always be? Is that for the better?

Daniel shivers a little in spite of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH okay I'm back!! This chapter had been sitting untouched for a while, since about May. I haven't really had inspiration for it until recently AND college is a busy thing, apologies. Again, no guarantees on updates being more frequent. I'm hoping for that but I think by now you all know how long it takes me to write some of these. Thanks for sticking with me!  
> ✿  
> [dolor outtakes here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13403199/chapters/30706398)  
> [tumblr here](https://luxsideris.tumblr.com)  
> I'm on twitter at [@luxsideris!](https://twitter.com/luxsideris)  
> [tribute list here, updated with deaths](http://listography.com/luxsideris/dolor/tribute_list)  
> [fic playlist here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLYbW26M8OAfGbpEVR4TjZyIKxY5M0NPwd)  
> ✿  
>  **If you're by chance into NA LCS (league of legends rpf) and want to check out what I've been working on over the past few months, I have some registered user-only stories[here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628141?view_full_work=true) and [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14943527)!**

**Author's Note:**

> i don't write very fast, so i hope you have patience. we're about to be in for a very long ride.  
> go ahead and scream at me in the comments, or leave kudos! it would be much appreciated!  
> ✿  
>  **[fic playlist here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLYbW26M8OAfGbpEVR4TjZyIKxY5M0NPwd) **


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